


Hearts and Strawberries

by Danica_Dust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Bottom Gabriel, Farmer Sam Winchester, Fire, Fluff, Horticulturist Gabriel, Industrial Sabotage, M/M, Pining, Sam Winchester Works Too Hard, Strawberries, Top Sam Winchester, the one that got away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26589157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danica_Dust/pseuds/Danica_Dust
Summary: When Sam Winchester left the family business—a horse and cattle ranch spanning tens of thousands of acres—to pursue his own dream, he knew it would be difficult. But he was determined to make his venture successful, and to do it independent of the Winchester heritage.No matter what it took.But what he hadn’t expected was to be bogged down by setbacks from the day he planted the first strawberry seeds. In order to stay afloat, he has poured his heart and soul into his farm, to the detriment of his relationships with his friends and family, to speak nothing of romantic endeavors.When pests ravage his strawberry plants a month before harvest, Sam can’t deny that he needs help. Professional help.Enter Gabriel Shurley, horticulturist, PhD. The saving grace to wipe his problems away, or so Sam hopes.But Sam’s streak of bad luck isn’t over yet. Because what he didn’t realize upon hiring Gabriel over the phone was that they had already met years ago. And what’s worse, Gabriel doesn’t recognize him.With the past creeping up, shadowy saboteurs lurking, and the future of his dream in jeopardy, Sam can only pray that Gabriel’s presence is enough to save his farm...and maybe his heart as well?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, a huge shout-out to the Sabriel Big Bang mods for keeping the bang alive during 2020! You guys are amazing for persevering through everything.
> 
> A giant round of applause to the amazingly talented artist that I had the privilege to work with -- Ookamikuro! Go check out her [Ao3 page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ookamikuro) and [Tumblr](https://ookamikuro-art.tumblr.com/). Art for this bang to follow shortly!
> 
> And last, but certainly not least, a big warm thank you to my dedicated and tireless beta, [thefandomsinhalor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefandomsinhalor). None of this would exist without you.
> 
> Vaguely inspired by [Strawberry Wine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Up06CryWQpE) by Deana Carter.

“You hired a _what_?”

Sam lowered his phone temporarily to release a sigh. “A horticulturist. It’s someone who—”

“I know what a horti-whatever is. But Sam, I told you that I had contacts I could reach out to if you were still having trouble. You don’t have to go and pay some random guy to—”

“It’s done, Dean. He’ll be here tomorrow.” He hadn’t meant that to come out so snappish, but he really didn’t want to deal with his brother’s attempts at interfering right at that moment. No matter how well-meant they were.

It was his business and he’d deal with its problems.

And if his temper was just a little short, it was because his day had already been crappy enough as it was.

“You can still—Cas? … Fine. Sam, Cas wants to talk to you.”

A rustle was heard over the line as Dean must have been passing his phone over to his husband. Sam smirked as he imagined the stern expression that he was sure Castiel was wearing, hand outstretched in silent demand.

And Dean giving in, as he always did.

Those two were so in love it made Romeo and Juliet’s romance seem like a summer fling.

“Hello, Sam,” that unmistakable gravelly voice said.

“Thanks for the save, Cas.”

“Hold on a moment.”

Muffled voices: “What? … But … private conversation … be in the kitchen …”

Then what could only be described as intense kissing sounds.

Sam audibly gagged into the microphone, following it up with, “Get a room!”

“I am sorry you had to hear that,” came Castiel’s voice, back at full volume.

Sam chuckled. “It’s all good, Cas. I’m glad you guys are happy.” And he’d heard a hell of a lot worse while they were first dating and he was still living at the ranch. Things he had scrubbed from his mind and would never thing about again, ever.

“He’s only trying to help.”

Another sigh. “I know.” Dean was always trying to help—whether that help was wanted or not. “I just … I need to do this on my own. You know? I can’t lean on Dean, or you, or the ranch. I just … can’t. This farm is my baby, and I feel like, if I can’t keep her going, then maybe I don’t deserve to have her.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“But, Sam, it’s a part of business to rely on outside sources. Investors. Bank loans. Networking contacts. Just because we’re family, doesn’t mean you should cut the farm off from the ranch completely. If we were partners—”

“Damn, Cas. You’re starting to sound like Dean. The fact that the farm’s land used to be part of the ranch and that we’re family are the two main reasons why I _need_ to keep our businesses separate. If I let Dean get a foothold, I know he’ll see my farm as simply a piece of the ranch, instead of its own entity. And I’ll just become the little brother again, bowing to the authority of my older brother.”

“Dean wouldn’t do that. He knows how much the farm means to you.”

“He wouldn’t mean to do it, but he would. Cas, you know him better than anyone, even probably me now. Tell me he wouldn’t start micromanaging me?”

Silence. “Alright. I see your point. But accepting a name that we just happen to know, and which we would give as a recommendation to anyone who asked, is hardly a hostile takeover.”

Sam shook his head even though Castiel couldn’t see him. He really should have known better. It was a very rare occasion that Castiel didn’t win an argument. Even as logical as Sam was, his brother-in-law was just too damn reasonable.

In fact, the only times Sam had seen him loose his cool was when it involved his brother. And when that happened, Sam had quickly learnt to immediately step back and observe the nuclear explosion from a safe distance.

So, Sam admitted defeat.

“Alright. Give me the name, and if my hire doesn’t work out, I’ll give them a call.”

“Thank you, Sam. Though I have a suspicion that you won’t need it in the end.” The last bit was said in Castiel’s ‘mysterious’ voice that always implied he knew more than he was saying.

Sam blinked. “What do you mean? Cas?”

But Cas wasn’t listening. Instead, he heard only more muffled voices. “Dean! He’ll take the name! … You’re awesome.” Cue kissing noises. “Where’d you put … Ah, there …”

Then Dean’s voice came on the line: “It’s _Harvelle Harvesting_. They helped us out while we were planting Cas’s orchard last year. Nice staff. Very knowledgeable. Charlie already did all the standard background checks.”

“Thanks, Dean. Like I told Cas, I’ll call if tomorrow goes badly.”

“Just tell Ellen I sent you.”

“I probably won’t need them, but if I do, I will.”

“If you need anything else—”

“All good here. Thanks, Dean. Bye, Dean.”

“Okay, but Sam—”

“ _Bye_ , Dean.”

And Sam hung up.

With a heaviness deep in his body, a feeling that was becoming increasingly common lately, he set his phone down on the porch railing and rolled his shoulders.

Stretching barely put a dent in the stiffness of his muscles anymore, put there was always more work to be done.

And it wasn’t like he could afford a professional masseuse in his current situation.

Not with problems that had been hitting him one after the other.

Not to mention the fact that he had just hired a new employee to help combat said problems, which would blow through all his savings in a short time if the farm didn’t start turning a profit soon.

But, gazing out at the fields— _his_ fields—that spread over gently sloping hills, right up to his back porch, it was easy to believe that it would be worth it.

It was early May and the strawberry plants were in full blossom, the white petals dotting the foot-high carpet of green like it had been dusted with stars. Come June, the summer breeze would be saturated with mouth-watering aroma of the ripening berries.

This would be his second year of harvest on the ten acres immediately behind his little one-story farmhouse, and he would miss looking out at his plants every morning when he had to rotate planting the strawberries in different acreage after this summer.

If he could afford to plant in the spring.

But he refused to dwell on that abhorrent possibility until his crops were dead, his bank account was zero, and he literally had no other choice.

Until then, he would assume that everything will turn out all right. And that his hope in the new addition to his team, this horticulturist, solving all his problems was not unfounded.

The day dawned bright and already hinting that it was going to be hot as hell. As it had for the last couple weeks, with nary a drop of rain in sight.

For now though, the coolness of the night still persisted.

Sam had left his window open the night before, so the caressing draft of strawberry-scented air drew him out of sleep. One of his favourite ways to wake up.

He opened his eyes to rays of early morning sunlight streaming through his billowing sheer curtains. The heavy drapes that he used during winter were tucked securely behind their carved-wood hooks.

There was never any need for him to close out the natural light, since he had no neighbours within a hundred acres.

The closest homestead was Dean and Castiel’s, and that was over ten miles away, separated by his own farm and a small fraction of Dean’s expansive horse and cattle ranch.

Sometimes, Sam missed the ranch, which had previously been their father’s, before John Winchester had passed away from cancer at fifty-two. Ownership of the ranch had been split between himself and Dean, and he had debated for years about what to do with his half.

In the meantime, Dean had overseen all the day-to-day activities of the ranch, while Sam had withdrawn, mainly tending to the ranch’s finances and other such business.

After Castiel had entered Dean’s life, Sam had known that he wanted—needed to do something different with his life.

So, he had made Dean an offer: He would keep sixty acres of the tens of thousands owned by the ranch, and would sell the remainder of his half to Dean for portion of its value.

After a few arguments that had strained their relationship for months, Dean had finally accepted. Sam probably had Castiel to thank for that, as his brother-in-law had clearly seen his need to ‘leave the nest’ and find his own way.

Using the capital from the sale of his part of the ranch, Sam had quickly built himself a small house on the land and begun work on setting up the farm.

Seeing that farm bathed in morning light through the glass sliding doors of his bedroom was the best feeling in the world, in his opinion.

So yes, sometimes he missed the ranch, but at the same time, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else than where he was.

Stretching, Sam left his bed and padded over to the attached bathroom to brush his teeth. He skipped a shower, as he preferred to bathe after work to rid himself of the dust and dirt from a hard day’s labour before settling in for the evening.

Dressed for the day, he headed down the hall of the one-story farmhouse toward the kitchen, where he intended to cook his usual spinach and cheese omelet with a piece of rye toast and a glass of unsweetened, diluted cranberry juice. Healthy and hardy fuel for the day ahead.

On his way, however, he spotted the printed resume on his kitchen table and recalled the imminent arrival of the newest member of his little team.

The horticulturist.

So, wanting to be prepared, he skipped the omelet, spread some of his own homemade strawberry jam on the toast, and sat down with a cup of herbal tea to review the man’s application for the position.

Gabriel Shurley, he read.

A Master’s degree in horticulture from Kansas State University.

Ten years working with some of the largest fruit and vegetable farms in Kansas right out of school.

Another seven years as an independent contractor whose client base included farms spread all across the country.

Sam had followed up with a few of the most recent ones, and every single one had only glowing reviews about Mr. Shurley’s work.

Interestingly, none had had much to say on Mr. Shurley’s personality. Rather, they claimed that he preferred to work alone and kept to himself, but when he did have something to say, his comments were always witty and revealed a cunning intelligence.

The main take-away that Sam got from those calls was that the results of Mr. Shurley’s presence could not be disputed. Everywhere he went, the yield of the crops increased exponentially.

From the moment Sam had seen the application after posting the position, it had been an easy decision to hire the man.

Sam’s only wonder was how he had managed to snag such a high-profile, and clearly highly desired, horticulturist. Surely he had to be swimming in offers from much more prestigious businesses than his own relatively small operation.

It was also curious why such a sought-after professional had made the decision to settle down again in Kansas when he could be travelling the country, or even the world, with his skills.

Perhaps, as he had to be entering his forties, he was beginning to want a more stable situation than contracting work offered. Maybe he was married and wanted to settle down and start a family.

Whatever his motivation was, Sam wasn’t about to pry into the man’s personal life choices.

He was just grateful that those choices had worked out in his favour.

Just as Sam was finishing putting together the on-boarding package with all the necessary forms and other human resources-related paraphernalia, the metal clanging of the bell by gate at the end of his driveway caught his attention.

The horticulturist was here.

And quite suddenly Sam was nervous as all hell.

What if he took one look the farm and said there was nothing to be done?

What if he changed his mind about working here?

What if … What if … What if …

Wiping sweating palms on his jeans, Sam picked himself up and strode out the door and down the gravel lane to the gate with more confidence than he felt. The stones crunched under his heavy work boots as he walked the hundred feet to where an ostentatiously gold SUV and a lone figure waited.

As he got closer, Sam began to make out details about his new employee.

Short. Probably only about five and half feet. Definitely less than six.

Full, wavy hair that was shorter than Sam’s own but still had some length to it, and shone golden brown in the full sun.

White button-down, dark jeans, and cowboy boots completed the look of someone not intending on doing much physical labour. White shirts didn’t stay white for very long on a farm, and those jeans probably cost as much as Sam’s tractor.

He only hoped those cowboy boots were broken in, or the man was going to have extremely sore feet by the end of the day.

And yet, dressed in flannel and faded denim, Sam couldn’t help but feel somewhat scruffy in comparison.

As he drew nearer, the man’s features began coming clearer.

The prominent jaw with just the right amount of stubble.

Sam slowed.

The characteristic nose, just slightly on the pointed side.

He slowed some more.

Those lips, ready to break into a roguish grin in a split second.

It couldn’t be.

Then he looked into those defining brown eyes and knew.

It was _him_.

And just like that, Sam’s mind slipped into the past.

Where it was late August and he was young, barely a man.

A party.

A handsome, witty stranger.

And the steamiest one-night stand of his life.

Sam stumbled and almost tripped over his own feet as they tried to stop and move forward at the same time.

“You all right there?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you.” He managed to make it the last few steps and stared at the face of said one-night stand.

Gabriel, whose name he hadn’t even known at the time, hadn’t changed. A few more laugh lines in his face, perhaps a few grey hairs hiding in those golden-brown locks. But otherwise, he was exactly the same as Sam remembered.

And he was quirking his eyebrow at Sam, his lips tilting toward that signature smirk. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

Sam blinked. Did… Did Gabriel not recognize—Well, Sam supposed that it _had_ been a long time ago. And unlike Gabriel, Sam _had_ changed a lot since then.

If that was the case…

“Sorry, I’m fine.” He stuck his hand out. “I’m Sam Winchester. You must be Mr. Shurley?”

Strangely, Gabriel hesitated for just a moment, watching Sam’s face, but then the moment passed. He took Sam’s hand in a warm, strong grip, his touch surprisingly callused against his own rough palm. He didn’t remember Gabriel’s hands being so worn back then. Though, it had been nineteen years.

_Get back on track, Sam._

“Thank you for coming all this way to join my relatively small operation here. I’m sure you had more lucrative offers than mine, so thank you.”

Gabriel rolled back on his heels, shrugging. “I did, but I needed to get away from all those big jobs. Go small. It’s been… way too long since I got back to my roots.”

“Roots? Here in Laurence?” Though Sam wasn’t sure why he was so surprised, since that would explain why Gabriel had been working at the ranch that particular summer so long ago.

“I have some family in the area. In fact, your farm was recommended by them when they learnt I was searching for something quieter and more remote than my usual gigs.”

 _Small world._ “You’ll have to give me their details some time, if they’re okay with it, so I can thank them for pointing you my way.”

“Let me prove myself first before you go thanking people for something you’ll probably regret before the day’s done.”

Sam blinked. “Regret?”

A crooked grin appeared on Gabriel’s face. One that was achingly familiar. “Oh, yes. My methods could be considered a bit… unorthodox.”

“Uh…”

“But don’t worry. It’ll be worth it. Your farm will never be more prosperous than after I’m done with it.” Gabriel cracked his knuckles. “So, tell me your tale of woe and we’ll get started.”

_Woe?_

An inkling that the promised regret would, in fact, come started to bloom inside him.

Nonetheless, he shook it off. “We’ll talk on the road, so you can see for yourself. Follow me,” he said with a wave toward his truck, and they began making their way to it. Gabriel a few steps behind Sam.

He would shoulder any pain or regret to get this farm back on its feet. He would survive.

He glanced back at Gabriel, who had his hands in his pockets, observing the parts of the farm around them.

It was his heart that he suspected was about to be put to the test.


	2. Chapter Two

Kneeling in the soil, Gabriel rubbed a partially bug-eaten leaf between his fingers, then tugged it off the infested strawberry plant entirely.

Sam winced, not at Gabriel’s actions, but at the state of his plants in this section of his farm.

Nodding, Gabriel stood and nonchalantly wiped his earth-covered hands on those designer jeans, creating stains on the hips to match the new stains on the knees. Sam repressed a second wince on the fabric’s behalf.

“Good news,” he said. “I can help you. I _do_ , however, have a few conditions.”

“What conditions?” Sam asked warily.

“First, when it comes to the crops, you have to do everything I say. No exceptions.” Sam opened his mouth, but Gabriel, sensing a protest, preempted his words by saying, “You have to trust me, Mr. Winchester. Trust my skills and that I will use them in the best way possible for your plants.”

“Just Sam is fine. We’re not that formal here.” He held up his hands, as if surrendering. “I leave everything in your hands. I’ve seen your resume, Mr. Shurley, and heard the reviews. Your work speaks for itself.”

“Gabriel, please.” He grinned and Sam fought the urge to blush like he was eighteen again. “It’s been a while since I’ve been able to do away with titles and honorifics. I’d almost forgotten what freedom from that stuffiness tasted like.”

Sam chuckled in agreement. “Other than the temps during harvest, we’re a small crew, so we’re more like family. No stuffiness here.” And then, just because he couldn’t resist, he added, “And to me, freedom has always tasted like strawberries.”

Gabriel threw back his head and laughed, full of real mirth.

Oh, and there came Sam’s blush.

He turned to face the fields, hoping to hide at least some of his reaction. “So, um, what are your other conditions?”

“Just one more. I need to stay on site.”

“Of course. You’ll have full access to—”

“No, no.” Sam looked over to see Gabriel shaking his head. “I mean overnight. Room and board.”

“Oh! Right.” Gabriel staying _here_? Constantly? Sleeping in the next room? He fought to steady his breathing, though his next words still may have come out in a higher pitch than normal. “Of course. If you haven’t found a place to stay yet, you’re welcome to—”

Once again, Gabriel interrupted with a shake of his head. “It’s about the way I work, not about a lodging situation. For the first couple of weeks, at the very least, I need to be on location twenty-four-seven. All part of my _modus operandi_ , if you will. I warned you my methods were unorthodox.”

Did that mean he’d also want to bring a significant other along? Kids even? Sam swallowed, but nonetheless, he said, “Not a problem. Like I was saying, you’re welcome to stay here. I have a spare bedroom you can use.”

“Excellent. I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t go around expecting my clients to put me up just because I feel like it. I have all the details regarding expenses and the like written up in a contract that we can go over.”

Finally, they were back in less awkward territory. Well, at least less awkward for Sam since Gabriel had no idea about Sam’s internal crises.

“Great, we’ll review all the paperwork from both sides once we get back to the house. You must have had a long drive and now we’ve been trekking all over the fields all morning. I’m sure you could use a break and some lunch right about now.”

Gabriel’s lips quirked. “I may not be a muscled mountain of a man like yourself, but I’m tougher than I look.”

Images of what Gabriel looked like under that designer clothing pelted Sam’s brain, causing him to stumble over an embarrassingly small mound of dirt.

“But I agree,” Gabriel continued. “Let’s get the boring stuff out of the way. Then the real work can begin.”

Returning Gabriel’s smile with as much composure as he could muster, Sam said, “Looking forward to it.”

While Gabriel reviewed Sam’s employment contract, Sam prepared a simple lunch for them both. Roast beef and cheddar on rye bread, topped with lettuce, red onion, and tomatoes from his own vegetable garden, and touched with mayonnaise, horseradish and Dijon mustard. A handful of kettle chips rounded off the meal.

As he was putting everything together, his phone chirped.

Jess: The bastard stopped by again

Jess: He saw my signs. I wanted to punch him in that smug grin

Sam: Don’t punch customers. That’s bad business.

Jess: Azazel’s not a customer. He’s the competition

Jess: I should have punched him

Sam: If you do, let me know so I can be there.

Sam: What signs?

Jess: Sorry Sam. There were too many people asking and I had to put up signs saying I’m out of stock

Sam: Already?

Jess: You know the last harvests have been small, Sam. I was only able to get a few casks out of them

Jess: Speaking of which, how’s this year’s crop coming?

Sam: There have been some

Jess: ?

Sam: Setbacks.

Jess: Oh, Sam

Sam: But I’ve got a plan. This year will be better.

Sam: I promise.

Sam: You’ll have so much strawberry wine, you won’t know what to do with it all. We may need to drink it ourselves.

Jess: I’ll hold you to that

Jess: Glad that things are getting better

Sam: Me too.

He looked up from his phone at Gabriel sitting at his kitchen table. A blast from his past, who also held his future in his hands.

Sam: You’ll never guess who’s in my kitchen right now.

Jess: Benedict Cumberbatch

Sam: Um, no.

Jess: Martin Freeman

Sam: Have you been watching _Sherlock_ again?

Jess: Chris Hemsworth

Jess: Chris Evans

Sam: Nope. Clearly a Marvel marathon.

Jess: Chris Pratt

Sam: Jess!

Jess: Chris Pine.

Jess: I know, he’s not Marvel but I was on a roll

Sam: Omg, Jess.

Sam: It’s the horticulturist I hired!

Jess: Um ok?

Jess: Sam?

Sam: It’s the man from the party.

Jess: Party?

Jess: Wait

Jess: THAT party??!?!

Sam: Yes

Jess: SAM

Sam: Yes?

Jess: PICS. NOW.

Jess: DEETS. NOW.

“Sam?” Gabriel’s voice tore Sam from his phone. “I have a question about this line here. Can you clarify something for me?”

“O-Of course.”

He hastily typed in his phone.

Sam: Later. Gotta go.

Jess: NOOOOO SAM!

Jess: You can’t say that and then leave me hanging!

He closed the chat window, put the phone on silent, and shoved it into his pocket.

Over the next half an hour, they finished all the necessary paperwork (which thankfully did not include any mention of additional guests), and then headed back out so Gabriel could look over the rest of the farm.

And Sam couldn’t help being impressed. In one glance, Gabriel could pinpoint all of the issues he was having. He took samples of the soil, water, leaves, roots, and a whole lot more, all from different areas of the farm.

He asked very specific questions about the history of the farm as well.

“So it was originally part of your father’s ranch?” he asked as they were driving back to the house, the sun dipping low in the sky behind them.

“Yes. My brother, Dean, agreed to let me split it off and sell the rest of my half back to him when we inherited it from our father. The ranch itself has been in our family for many generations.”

“Ah. And, uh, what’s the name of the ranch?”

Glancing over, Sam could only see the smallest part of Gabriel’s face, not enough to make out any kind of expression, as the other man stared out the window at the passing fields. Was Gabriel making the connection to Sam? Was he about to realize who he was?

Did he want him to?

“The Winchester Ranch.” It was the truth. What Sam didn’t say was that, back when Gabriel had been there, it had been the Campbell Ranch, passed down through his mother’s side of the family until she had passed and his father had taken over.

“I see.”

Sam bit his lip, then said, “Why do you ask?” _Shut up, Sam._

Finally, Gabriel turned from the window and Sam’s eyes drifted from the road to catch that gaze like summer soil after the rain.

“I spent the summer at a farm in the area. I had thought it had been around here, but I must have been mistaken. It was… a long time ago. Nearly two decades. You would have been, what, in grade school?”

“Ha, I wish I was that young. I was—would have been eighteen.”

“That’s precise. Something happen around that time to make you remember it so accurately?”

“I—I mean, if it was just under two decades ago, that’s how hold I would be. Because I’m thirty-seven now. So…”

“I get it, Sam. I was just teasing.”

“Of course.” Sam swallowed. _Stupid, Sam. Stupid._

Mercifully, Gabriel then switched back to his original line of questioning. He asked Sam about what the section of ranch that had become the strawberry farm had formally been used for and how he had prepared it for the strawberries, all of which Sam easily told him, even going into detail about the soil preparation.

Gabriel nodded along to it all, simply absorbing and asking the occasional follow-up question.

He had become more sedate over the years, Sam observed. Quieter. More… he wasn’t sure if “grave” was the right word, but it seemed to fit Gabriel’s new solemnity.

The Gabriel that Sam remembered from nineteen years ago had been boisterous, carefree and rather hedonistic, focused solely on having a good time during the brief span of their “acquaintance”, if one could even call their one-night stand that.

Back then, Sam, typically laser focused on college and his future career, had lapped up the charming and handsome stranger’s rebellious energy like an addict, aching for just another taste.

It had only been one night, but the withdrawal had lasted well into the following year, up to when he had met Jessica and their relationship had become the distraction that he had needed to get over the one that got away.

Given that it had been based on rebound feelings—from Sam’s side—naturally his and Jess’ romantic relationship hadn’t lasted, but they had remained good friends, and his strawberry farm wouldn’t have become as successful as it had without her support through her wine business.

Now, Sam just hoped that he could pick his farm back up from where it had fallen over the last three years. Ever since the “mysterious” mishaps had begun occurring.

Once Gabriel had all the history on the land that he needed, he turned his questions to what exactly had been going wrong.

“I don’t know if we have enough road left for that conversation,” Sam joked.

His eyes slid right to check Gabriel’s reaction, and he caught the man’s raised eyebrow.

“I know you mentioned that there had been a number of problems over the years, but if it’s really that extensive, you may have a larger problem here than a simple horticulturist can help with. I can recommend some lawyers. Or perhaps a real estate agent?”

“No. I’m not selling.” Sam surprised even himself with the vehemence in his words. He cleared his throat and softened his tone. “You’re suggesting sabotage?”

“It’s possible, if what you’ve hinted at is any indication. You haven’t considered it?”

Sam sighed. “I have. To be honest, there have definitely been times when things have smelled fishy, even without the other issues. But I—If it’s really someone messing with my farm—”

Sam’s hands clenched the wheel, his knuckles turning white.

“We’ll get to the bottom of it, Sam. That I can promise you. That’s what you called me here for, after all.”

And just like that, his hands relaxed. And for the first time in Heaven-knows how long, he actually felt hope that everything would turn out all right cautiously blooming inside him, like the first tentative sprout of a new plant, green and delicate.

Sure enough, they arrived back at the farmhouse while Sam was still detailing the trials his farm had been put through over the last three years.

Ever since both he and Dean had refused to sell to _Graceful Growers_ , the international corporation run by renowned business-man and multi-millionaire, Lucifer Morningstar. Sam had never met the man in person, but he still managed to loathe his guts from a distance.

Sam wasn’t about to mention any of that to Gabriel, though. If it did turn out to be industrial sabotage, the horticulturist didn’t need to become involved in such messy business because of him.

As he was detailing the issues, however, it was clear that Gabriel’s previously voiced opinion was being solidified in his mind.

It had begun with a visit from an agricultural inspector, only a few days after he had turned down one of Lucifer’s stooges, a man by the name of Azazel Masters.

Then a number of Sam’s regular summer pickers didn’t return for the season’s harvest. A few of Dean’s ranch hands had resigned as well. He later found out that his pickers had been poached by other farms in the area, despite having given him full indication that they would be returning the prior year.

The following year had seen abruptly dehydrated plants in a new field that he had sown, as if the land had been salted, resulting in the loss of that entire field’s worth of crops. Alongside which, some of his machinery, despite being fairly new and well-maintained, had suddenly started breaking down on him. That alone had cost thousands of dollars in labour and replacement parts.

Last year, Sam had seen a bit of relief from the incidents, other than a few of his plants being trampled or eaten by escaped livestock from the ranch, but Dean had had to spend an entire weekend wrangling the animals back to their enclosures. Not to mention a wave of illness through Dean’s best herd of cattle and a series of supposed coyote attacks on his flock of sheep.

So far this year, it had been bugs. So many bugs.

It was the dehydrated plants and the bugs that Gabriel focused on, which made sense given his role there.

Sitting down to a quick dinner of mushroom and swiss cheese burgers, a spinach, avocado and strawberry salad with poppyseed dressing, and his own homemade chips with herbs and buttermilk ranch dip, also homemade, Sam continued to answer Gabriel’s questions while they ate.

“Have you been able to recover the field since that season?” Gabriel frowned at his burger.

“It took a lot of irrigation, water, and readjustment of the drainage there, but yes. It took me all summer last year to clean it up, but I was able to plant in it this spring, and so far, the plants have done well enough. It was field four that we passed through today.”

He made a note in his phone. “I’ll make sure the lab pays extra attention to that soil sample.”

Pleasantly surprised, Sam reiterated his appreciation of the effort Gabriel was making to help him.

“All part of the package that you’re paying for, Sam. Just routine sampling that I do at all of my jobs.” Then he picked up the burger and hesitantly took a bite.

Sam chuckled as half of Gabriel’s burger disappeared nearly instantaneously. The horticulturist had his eyes closed in bliss as he chewed with a slow reverence. A much-preferred show of enjoyment than his brother’s usual chipmunk-cheeked display.

“Damn, what is this made from? Ambrosia?”

“Mushrooms, actually. My own recipe. It’s all in the choice of cheese and seasonings.”

“Well, colour me impressed.” Gabriel scarfed down the remains of the burger. “Are you vegetarian?” he asked, simple curiosity written on his face as he dove into the salad.

“Not in any formal sense,” Sam admitted. “But I enjoy eating fresh and healthy, and, well,” he scratched the back of his neck, “fresh meat is expensive.”

Gabriel paused his salad munching, and those brown eyes delved into him, as if peering past all his avoidances, all the fears and concerns he wasn’t saying, right into the very core of him.

Until that moment, Sam hadn’t realized how much he had missed that intuitiveness in Gabriel’s eyes. Even back when they had been young, Gabriel had seen right through his defences, allowing Sam to forget they even existed, even if only for one night.

One glorious night…

Sam adverted his eyes, breaking the connection and hoping the heat he could feel in his chest and face didn’t reveal itself in a blush.

He wanted Gabriel to see him, but he also _didn_ _’t_ want Gabriel to see him.

God, he was a mess.

Gabriel resumed munching on his salad, and Sam followed suit, though he didn’t taste the food that went into his mouth.

“Tough times, I assume?”

“Yeah.”

Gabriel nodded, and just like that, as if sensing Sam’s reluctance to continue further on the topic, Gabriel switched focus.

“The bugs that I noticed today,” he began, “you did a pretty good job keeping them at bay, but I feel that you’ll need a more aggressive approach to really get rid of them for good.” He picked up his phone again. “I’m going to send you a link to a pesticide that I like to use. It’s quite safe and should be very effective for your particular brand of pest.”

“Thank you.”

Gabriel put his phone back down, but when Sam’s own phone didn’t chirp with the incoming message, he remembered that he had put it on silent after messaging with Jess.

Gabriel continued speaking as Sam checked his notifications. “For any other actions, I’ll need more time to make additional observations, and for the results of the tests to come back from the lab.”

Three messages from Jess, warning of an impeding visit if he didn’t send her all the details about Gabriel immediately.

One message from Dean, asking how the first day with the new horticulturist had gone.

And finally, one voicemail from Gary, one of his two year-round staff.

“Sounds fair,” Sam said, responding to Gabriel. He would check the voicemail after dinner. “What are your plans for tomorrow, then?”

“While we wait for the pesticide and results to arrive, how about you show me around town?”

Sam looked up from his phone to see Gabriel had cleaned his plate and was now leaning back in his chair with a casual air and a roguish grin.

And suddenly he was eighteen again, staring at a younger version of that same man, wearing that exact same grin, watching him in turn from across the pavilion’s dance floor.

The absolutely huge white tent had been rented out for the Campbell Ranch’s end-of-season celebration, and it had been bursting with cowboys, ranch hands, and all the other staff that the ranch employed.

Yet, all those people had faded into the backdrop of Sam’s mind as the stunning stranger had sauntered over, his every movement oozing confidence and his eyes promising untold delights. In his hand, he had carried a margarita glass filled with an icy, green concoction, topped with a golden umbrella.

“If you’re not too busy with stuff around here, that is.” Gabriel’s voice snapped him out of the memory.

Sam quickly cleared the dazed expression from his face. “Not busy. I’d be happy to take you into town. Not much else to do this time of year except manage the books and make preparations for harvest. Of course, if things keep up the way they’ve been, there won’t be a harvest this year.”

His eyes dropped down to his half-finished food. He pushed the plate away, suddenly not very hungry.

A hand grabbed his as he released the plate.

“Sam.” He looked up, only to receive an intense stare from Gabriel. “I promised we would solve this. I stake my reputation on my record, and this will not be the job that breaks my winning streak.”

Despite himself, Sam couldn’t help the snort-laugh that escaped him as his tension released. “You sound very sure of yourself.” He didn’t remove his hand from Gabriel’s.

“I am. You should be, too.”

“Sure of you? I know you’ll do—”

“No, sure of yourself.” Gabriel’s thumb, resting against Sam’s palm, began caressing the suddenly overly sensitive skin there, and causing tingles to shoot up his arm and spark in his chest. “You’ve done great work here, and already I can tell how much you love the place. A lot of people who’ve been through similar situations would have given up long ago. But I’m guessing that’s not in your nature.”

Correction, he wasn’t hungry for _food_. But there were other things a man could be hungry for. And one was sitting right in front of him, teasing him with a single finger.

With Gabriel’s words, determination crept into Sam, and that budding hope grew a little bit more.

He turned his hand over and took control of the contact between them. “You’re right.” With two fingers, he stroked across Gabriel’s wrist, while keeping hold of his hand. “It’s not in my nature to let go of something that I want.”

He felt him tremble where they touched. Then eyes of molten chocolate widened and a strange expression crossed Gabriel’s face too fleetingly for Sam to analyze what it was.

The next thing he knew, Gabriel was pulling his hand away and standing up.

Confused, he watched as he began gathering up his dishes.

“Gabriel, you don’t have to—”

“Good. That’s good. Keep that determination in mind and you’ll do well for yourself.” He placed the dishes in the sink, Sam turning in his chair to follow his movements. “I’m going to review my notes from today. Is there a room that I can use?”

“Your bedroom will be down the hall, to the left.”

“Have a good evening, Sam.”

And then he was gone.

Completely thrown for a loop, all Sam could do was tidy up the rest of the kitchen and head to his own room. Once there, he listened to his voicemail—Gary was calling in sick—responded to his messages—a quick “going well” to Dean and a “details tomorrow” to Jess—ordered the pesticide that Gabriel had recommended, and then tried reading, but he couldn’t concentrate. He tried doing some accounting work, but the numbers kept floating off the screen.

Finally, exhausted inside and out, he flopped onto his bed and tried to sleep, knowing there’d be another early day ahead, as there always was on a farm.

In the smallest hours of the morning, his body finally slept and his mind drifted into dreams. Dreams of memories long past.


	3. Chapter Three

For once, Sam didn’t wake up with the sun. It seemed that his sleep-deprived body had decided that it could do with a few more hours of rest and it was only the sound of his door bell that dragged him out of bed.

Rushing to throw on some pants over his boxers, Sam lumbered out of his bedroom and into the hallway as the bell rang a second time.

“I’m c—” _Slam._

Sam toppled forward, his hands grappling for purchase on Gabriel, who had just exited the guest bedroom, but their momentum was too much and they both crashed to the floor.

At the last second, Sam twisted and took the brunt of the impact to his back, while Gabriel landed sprawled across his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“Damn, Winchester. You’re like a charging bull moose,” Gabriel groaned from on top of him, his hair tickling Sam’s cheek from where his face was smooshed into his neck.

Sam, meanwhile, was still trying to catch his breath. Which was not helped when his hands touched bare skin and his mind supplied the image of a shirtless Gabriel pressed against him.

He subtly glanced down their prone bodies, only to see that he was holding Gabriel’s shoulders, and that the rest of his torso (and any lower naughty bits) were adequately covered by a white A-shirt and red boxers.

Though the shirt had rucked up somewhat during the fall, revealing a strip of skin on Gabriel’s lower back.

Gabriel was warm, his weight comforting, as neither of them moved.

Sam wanted to stroke that exposed skin.

He wanted to—

The doorbell rang a third time, conveying the impatience of the person standing on the other side.

“I—I’m sorry,” Sam said, gently pushing at Gabriel’s shoulders.

Gabriel took the hint and rolled off of Sam, groaning loudly. “Don’t mind me. I’m just going to lie here for a minute. Or ten.”

Sam stood and hesitated. “Are you all right?”

Gabriel waved off his concern.

More hesitation.

The doorbell ringing once again had Sam barrelling toward the front door and wrenching it open with a snarled, “What?”

On the other side of the threshold stood a familiar woman with long, black hair and sultry, stuff-of-wet-dreams curves.

“Ruby.”

“Heya, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s been a while. You gonna let me in?”

“No.” And Sam moved to slam the door in her face.

“Oh, come on, Sam. I’m here on business. Hear me out at least.”

He scowled at her. “Even more reason to not listen to you. I’m not interested in any proposition you or your boss have, nor am I interested in anything else you might want to say to me.”

Ruby’s dark eyes drifted down Sam’s chest, raking him with her gaze. Sam suppressed a shudder of revulsion.

He couldn’t believe he had ever liked this traitorous bitch. That he had let her touch him.

“I can think of a few ways we can ‘communicate’ without words.” She bit her lip, bared her neck, and observed him with hooded eyes.

Sam wanted to throw up.

Instead, he leaned back and crossed his arms. “I suggest you leave.”

“Don’t be like that, Sammy.”

“I told you—”

“Hear me out, and then I’ll leave.”

The last thing he wanted was to let Ruby take up even more of his time, especially time he could be spending with Gabriel, but he knew that she wouldn’t let him have any peace until she’d said whatever she’d come to say.

“Fine. You have thirty seconds.”

“I’d only need ten to give you the best—”

“Twenty-five.”

“God, Sam. You used to be fun. Work, work, work all the time makes Sammy a cranky boy.”

“Fifteen.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Fine. Mr. Morningstar sent me with a new offer.” From her leather jacket, she pulled out a thick manila envelope and held it out to him.

Sam ignored it. “Tell him I’m not interested.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sam. Just take the goddamn envelope so I can say I delivered it.” She shoved it at him, and Sam reluctantly accepted it. “He said to tell you that you have one week to decide on this one.”

“Don’t bother coming back for my answer. It’s going to be a ‘no’.”

“If you were smart, you’d take the deal while it’s still being offered. You might not get another chance.”

He opened his mouth to tell her where she could take her deal, but stopped when he felt a hand between his shoulder blades.

Gabriel stepped up beside him, still dressed solely in the A-shirt and boxers, but now holding one of the strawberry lollipops that Sam had been experimenting with as a potential new product. He had left the first batch in a jar on the counter, and Gabriel must have snagged one on his way through the kitchen.

“You were taking too long,” he groused animatedly. “Who’s your friend?”

“Not a friend,” Sam snapped, directing his ire toward Ruby, hoping she’d take the hint.

“Wasn’t talking about this skank here. Clearly she has overstayed any welcome she may have had.” He waved his hand at the driveway. “I was talking about the furious blonde storming our way.”

Sam’s eyes followed his gesture to see Jess stomping up the gravel drive, giving off waves of fury that were clearly directed at Ruby. If eyes could throw actual daggers, Ruby would be twitching on the ground, impaled by a thousand or more.

Ruby’s smug arrogance soured into a look of loathing. If Jess and Ruby had been cats, backs would have been arched, fur fluffed, along with plenty of hissing and spitting.

“Once again, I suggest you leave,” said Sam, grinning, “before ‘the ex’, as you so fondly called her, arrives.”

With a glare and a huff, Ruby stalked off, making sure she kept a wide berth from Jess, who stopped and stared the other woman down as she walked to her car and drove off in a plume of dust.

“Damn,” Gabriel moaned beside him. “And here I was looking forward to the showdown. So anti-climatic.”

Sam shook his head at Gabriel, but he was still smiling, so the admonishment was not exactly effective. “I’ve seen them go at it. Trust me, it’s more screeching eagles than jello wrestling.”

Turning his face up to him, Sam saw that Gabriel’s eyes were dancing with mirth and mischievousness.

And God, had Sam missed that. That look had gotten him through one of the worst days of his life, and turned it into a cherished memory.

Before Gabriel had appeared on his doorstep the day before, the memory of that summer night had made him as sad as it had hot and bothered.

But now that he had found Gabriel again, the sadness was gone, leaving only raging desire and an exquisite sense of anticipation whenever it came to mind. Which was now. All. The damn. Time.

“You better throw that straight in the trash, Sam Winchester,” Jess growled as her greeting.

“Planning on it,” Sam responded cheerily, his Gabriel-inspired smile still plastered all over his face.

Jess paused a second. Blinked at him.

Then her gaze shifted to Gabriel beside him and a knowing grin spread over her face.

Sam’s good feelings flickered slightly. _Trouble! Trouble!_

But Jess simply offered her hand and said, “You must be Gabriel. I’m Jess. It’s honestly a _pleasure_ to finally meet you.”

Gabriel shook her hand hesitantly, his eyebrows having risen as she had spoken.

“Sounds like Sam’s been spreading the word about me.”

Heat rose to Sam’s face. “Only to my family and Jess, and she’s sort of like my business partner, and a long-time friend.”

“It’s fine, Samwise,” Gabriel said with a wink at him. Then he turned his gaze back to Jess. “May I ask what you meant by ‘finally’? I’ve barely been here a day. Unless Sam has _really_ been singing praises about me.”

And Sam’s entire body kicked the heat up a notch, until he was certain he was beet red and his palms had begun sweating.

Jess snickered conspiratorially at Sam, who tried pleading with her with his eyes.

Finally, she said, “Oh, he’s been singing about your accolades since he hired you. He’s promised me all the strawberries I can handle, thanks to you.”

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him. “Is that so?”

“Well, I mean—” Sam stuttered. “You’re practically famous in the agricultural industry.”

“I’ll certainly aim to please.”

“Excellent!” Jess crowed.

Sam turned on her, trying to pretend that he wasn’t acutely aware of Gabriel’s eyes on him, and that the image of the last time Gabriel had said those words to him—in a completely different context—wasn’t intruding on his though processes.

“Sorry. What are you doing here?”

“I warned you that I would be paying you a visit if you didn’t send me the… _details_.” The last was said in a conspiratorial whisper that only served to make Gabriel pay attention to it even more.

“You’re the worst.”

“You’re welcome.” Then she promptly threw her arm over Gabriel and dragged him into the house to begin her interrogation.

Conceding defeat, Sam followed them inside. Perhaps he could distract Jess with the lollipops long enough for him and Gabriel to actually get dressed.

When Jess finally left—after eating brunch and ringing out nearly the entirety of Gabriel’s life story punctuated by tangents and anecdotes that had all three of them practically rolling with laughter—she gave Sam a punch on the arm, followed by a swift kiss on the cheek.

“Go get him, tiger,” she whispered at him. He rolled his eyes at her, but couldn’t help his smile, which effectively ruined the eye roll.

Then, finally, they were alone again.

And he looked at Gabriel. And Gabriel looked back at him, head tilted, questioning.

And, _oh no_ , being alone was bad. Very, very bad.

“Well,” he said, thinking quickly, “You had mentioned you wanted to go into town, right? I just have a few things to take care of, then we can head out.”

A perfectly reasonable suggestion. After all, Gabriel needed to ship those samples he had taken off to a lab, and Sam was anxious for any results that could help his farm.

But as he turned to head to his home office, he was stopped by Gabriel asking him to wait.

“Something wrong?” he asked, only half-turned and inching toward the office door and his temporary escape.

“We need to talk.”

Sam froze, barely breathing. He didn’t even dare look Gabriel in the eye, choosing instead to stare at the picture of a flowering strawberry plant hanging on the wall in front of him.

“That woman—Ruby, I think I heard you say. Who does she work for?”

Breath rushed out of his lungs as Sam’s limbs turned to jello, relief washing through him.

Gabriel didn’t know. Not _yet_ anyway.

Not that Ruby was an easy topic either. “Ah,” he hedged, “she works for _Graceful Growers_.”

Brown eyes narrowed. “Lucifer Morningstar’s company.”

It hadn’t been said as a question, but Sam nodded anyway.

Gabriel’s gaze drifted over to the manila envelope that Sam had discarded on small table by the front door as they had come inside and had promptly forgotten about.

“He— _Graceful Growers_ wants to buy your farm.”

Again, not a question. And again, Sam nodded.

“Not that I would ever sell to those snakes,” he added. “But they keep making offers. Not just to me either, but to my brother, Dean, as well.”

“I see. Well,” and Gabriel clapped his hands together, making Sam jump. “Would you like the lawyer’s card or the real estate agent’s? Personally, I recommend the real estate agent.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sam.” Gabriel’s voice was stern, his eyes hard. “This isn’t the first time I’ve tangled with _Graceful Growers_. I’ve had other clients with similar issues. Heard even more stories. Lucifer won’t stop until he gets what he wants, or until he burns it all to the ground. After which, he’ll swoop in, clean up the ashes and take over anyway. He’ll destroy you, Sam.”

But Sam was already shaking his head in defiance. “I’m not selling—to Morningstar or anyone. But if you’re that certain its sabotage, I’ll take that lawyer’s information.” He held out his hand.

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair, locks spilling in front of his eyes after it had passed. “Fine. I’ll text it to you. Frank Devereaux’s been building his case against _Graceful Growers_ for years, the paranoid bastard, but he’ll do what he can for you. I wouldn’t hold out too much hope though. Lucifer’s got lawyers of his own on lock down. Good ones.”

“I know. One of my friends got picked up by the company right out of law school. We lost touch after that, but the things I heard… The cases he worked… It wasn’t good.”

“Wait, you went to law school?”

“What? Oh, no. We were just at the same university for our undergrad.” He shrugged it off, his usual embarrassment flaring, as it did whenever this topic came up.

He came from a family of ranchers, and, not for a lack of intelligence—for all his flaws, his father had been brilliant at what he did—it was uncommon for them to pursue further education past getting a high school diploma. The demands of the ranch were just too high.

Sam, however, had always been the black sheep of the family.

But Gabriel was clearly curious. “What did you study?” he asked, leaning against the back of the couch, as if getting ready for a long conversation.

Sam gazed longingly at his office and it’s promise of escape, but in the end, he turned back to Gabriel and answered, “Business.” And since he may as well go all in: “And after my undergrad, I got my MBA.”

“Damn, Sam. I knew you were a smart cookie.” He grinned, and Sam dropped his eyes to his toes, which were still bare, since he was still only wearing his night clothes. “The way you spoke of your farm, and the things you discussed with Jess about her store… You’ve got a hell of a lot of brain under that brawn.”

Sam’s eyes began to travel up Gabriel’s toned, bare legs, to the hem line of his boxers, to—He snapped his gaze back to Gabriel’s face. Which was smirking at him.

He had also managed to angle himself on the back of the couch in a surely unwittingly tantalizing pose. He had also stuck Sam’s strawberry lollipop in his mouth.

Blood rushed to Sam’s face and parts further south.

“You should get dressed,” Sam blurted out. “I mean—We should get dressed. For the day. Because we need to go out. To the post office… and stuff… Right?”

A moment of silence, and then, a burst of laughter. “Oh, Samsquatch,” Gabriel managed between chortles. He lifted himself off the couch and walked over to Sam, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Did I make you a bit flustered in my _scandalous_ undergarments?”

“ _No_ ,” he squeaked. _Okay, Sam. Let_ _’s try that again._ “Of course not. I—It’s just that… Those lollipops are just trials. So I don’t know how good they taste. So, um, how do you like it?”

Both of Gabriel’s eyebrows raised and he promptly popped the lollipop out of his mouth to stare down at it. His hand was still on Sam’s shoulder which kept him quite effectively pinned to the spot.

“You made this?”

Sam, not trusting himself to speak, nodded.

A provocative swipe of his tongue, stained bright red, across the lollipop nearly had Sam losing his mind.

“It’s good. Perhaps a little more sugar, but still excellent.”

“It’s supposed to be a healthier alternative.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Everything’s better with more sugar.”

“I think that’s just you.”

A grin and a wink. “Why thank you, Sam. But you haven’t tried me with sugar yet.”

And with that, Gabriel strode off out of the room and down the hall, crunching on the lollipop as he went, and leaving Sam gapping at his back.

“I—I meant your opinion,” Sam called, but he had already disappeared into his room.

Despite his supposed ‘hell of a lot of brain’, Sam wandered into his office in a muddled daze. His skin felt hot and tingly.

_God, I haven_ _’t felt this way since… Well, since I had been with Gabriel the one time._

Which he supposed made sense. But what the hell was he going to do about it?

He grabbed the mail he needed to send while in town and beelined for his room, showering and getting ready as efficiently as possible.

When he emerged, Gabriel was still in his room, so he made up some shakes with almond milk, Greek yogurt, vanilla protein powder, bananas, and his own strawberries, to take with them into town.

Making the shakes calmed him down, but he could already tell that it was going to be a long day.

Having Gabriel around was going to be more difficult that he had thought.


	4. Chapter Four

The trip into town kept Sam on his toes. Gabriel had an extensive repertoire of banter stock piled, and he seemed intent on using it all before the summer was over.

Sam, of course, enjoyed every second of it. The push and pull of witty retorts and extraordinarily deep dives into topics, such as organic farming methods, stimulated his intellectual mind and even, at times, had him working to keep up with Gabriel’s train of thought.

Granted, Gabriel didn’t always take the most straight forward path, often segueing into tangents that had Sam either bursting out in laughter or flushing from his head to his toes, or both. But his deductions and opinions matched Sam’s own more often than not. And whenever they didn’t, the ensuing debate was, in Sam’s opinion, the highlight of their conversations.

They ran the necessary errands quickly, then took their time meandering through the town, with Gabriel frequently commenting on things that had changed since he had last visited. It still felt like an oven, except drier, outside, so they stopped often to refresh themselves, which ultimately made for a pleasant stroll.

Sam’s previous wariness over the excursion, however, returned as that topic shifted toward other events in their respective pasts.

“So…” Gabriel began as they were waiting in line at Sam’s favourite deli to pick up some lunch. “Miss Moore. There were some implications that you two had a thing at one time? And that other woman… Ruby? There was definitely something more than business going on there.”

Sam sighed. “Yes, I dated both of them in the past. As I’m sure you’ve guessed, Ruby and I didn’t exactly part ways amicably.” He swallowed past the knot forming in his throat.

A hand on his shoulder had him looking up from his boots to see Gabriel watching him, brow furrowed slightly in concern. “Painful subject? We can move on to a new one.”

Sam opened his mouth to say, “Yes, please,” but it was their turn to order just then, and by the time they had their food, he had re-evaluated his initial reaction.

As Gabriel led the way to a place he remembered where they could sit and eat, Sam said, “It’s not that it’s painful. I certainly don’t have any residual feelings for her or anything like that. It’s—That time—I’m ashamed of some of the things I did while I was with her. I have so much regret associated with that period of my life.”

They entered one of the parks at the edge of town, heading down a path that Sam knew dead-ended at a small, weed-choked pond. He also knew how far it was, and so was very glad of the refreshments they had packed, despite the added weight to bring with them.

“Why the regret?”

“I nearly missed my own brother’s wedding, for one. But mostly I was stupid and ignored all the signs that she was just using me to scope out my farm for _Graceful Growers_. We didn’t even date for a full year, but I still feel the effects sometimes.”

“It’s easy to ignore the flaws in the people closest to us. We want them to be who we imagine them to be, so to our eyes, they are. But it sounds to me like you realized your mistake and corrected it much faster than many people would. Myself included.”

“You? I can’t imagine you letting anyone trick you. I mean, you see right through me.” A second later, Sam realized what he had just said and his face and neck heated.

Gabriel laughed, but it didn’t feel as real as normal and the smile he wore didn’t reach his eyes. “Aw, shucks, Sam. But even as amazing as I am, even I’m not infallible. I’ve been around the bend a time or two where it didn’t end well. And I’ve been in a toxic relationship.”

Gabriel’s head had dropped, so he couldn’t see his face, but the way his shoulders had hunched in on themselves told Sam everything he needed to know. He wanted to wrap Gabriel up in his arms, but wasn’t sure if he should.

As he hesitated, indecisive, Gabriel continued speaking. “For years. So, colour me impressed that you got out as quickly as you did. It was only a lucky circumstance that allowed me to get the help I needed to escape that man.”

The reason behind the new solemnity that he had noticed in Gabriel since meeting him again was starting to become clear. They had both gone through so much, got on with their lives, over the last two decades.

Why was he hesitating to reveal how he felt? Gabriel could reject him, sure, but wasn’t that always the risk of putting yourself out there?

He reached out, and—

“We’re here,” Gabriel said suddenly. Without Sam even realizing, they had rounded a bend and come out at the pond.

Sam paused, gazing around at the tall, brown grasses, the algae-green and lily-covered water. The ground under his feet was actually soft and spongy, unlike the dry, dusty dirt elsewhere, and the air was filled with buzzing insects and the ripe scents that came from still water and rotting detritus.

“Here?” he questioned warily.

He heard Gabriel laugh—a truer laugh this time—and his gaze found the other man already across the small clearing and disappearing between some bushes.

Both confused and intrigued, Sam followed.

And emerged on the other side to Gabriel’s arm holding him back from a steep drop-off just beyond the barrier of foliage.

His jaw dropped as he scanned the view of Lawrence spread out before them.

“Wow…” He hadn’t even realized they had been walking gradually uphill the entire time.

“I know.”

“How did you find this place?”

“Happy accident.”

Sam’s gaze left the stunning view to find Gabriel, who was shrugging. A sly smile on his lips.

“You got lost?” he guessed.

“Almost fell right off the edge. Seeing town at night from up here though is something else.”

“You’ll have to show me sometime,” Sam said without thinking.

Gabriel quirked an eyebrow at him and Sam nearly took back what he had said. But he held his tongue.

And was rewarded for doing so when Gabriel answered. “I think I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a moment until Sam, feeling a million butterflies take flight in his chest, broke it. His nerves making him question if he was reading too much into Gabriel’s words.

They settled themselves on the ledge and pulled out their haul of food: grilled pastrami sandwiches on rye bread, with swiss cheese, whole grain mustard, and a sweet onion marmalade; a colourful Mediterranean bean salad; a bag full of candied nuts; and a couple handfuls of fresh strawberries. To drink, they had bottles of water infused with honeydew, cucumber, and mint.

To move their conversation fully out of the past, Sam asked Gabriel if he had any other jobs lined up for when their contract was completed. To which he responded that he did not and that he was actually looking forward to taking a bit of a break and enjoying being back in his hometown for a while. Which gave Sam a pleasant, anticipatory feeling in his chest.

The conversation flowed from there while they ate. Sam spoke of his plans for the farm and Gabriel offered his knowledge on some of the ideas he had been teasing with in his mind. In his turn, Gabriel expanded on his desire to get away from the commercial side of agriculture and get back to working with smaller, local operations. That his work with Sam was a trial run of sorts.

“I’m glad things worked out the way they did,” Sam said. “I don’t know what I would have done otherwise.”

Gabriel waved away his words. “You would have been fine. You’re resourceful, so you would have just found another way.”

Sam shook his head at the praise. “I’m still glad it was you.”

“Me too, Sam.” Gabriel grinned at him. “I’ll have to thank my cousin for recommending you, the next time that I see him.”

“Please thank him for me as well.” Sam owed the man a truckload of strawberries and so much more for bringing Gabriel back into his life. For giving him a second chance.

After whiling away more time than they probably should have on excellent food and even better conversation, they finally headed back to the farm to do some actual work.

They decided that it would be best for Gabriel to see the equipment and begin familiarizing himself with the processes Sam and his staff employed on the farm.

So, they headed out back to one of the barns upon their return, where Sam spotted Colt, the second of his two permanent employees, working on one of the tractors. Colt wiped his hands on a greasy rag as they approached, his weathered face looking as surly as ever under the brim of his Stetson.

“Gabriel, this is Samuel Colt,” he said, and Gabriel offered his hand. “Colt, this is Gabriel Shurley. He’s an extremely accomplished horticulturist who’s here to help us with the issues we’ve been having.”

Colt looked unimpressed by Gabriel’s accolades, but shook his hand nonetheless. “Not sure what help you’re gonna be, boy. Told Mr. Winchester here that it ain’t natural what’s been happening. In all my years, never seen this kind of bad luck, if that’s what it is. And I have my suspicions.”

“Would you care to tell me about your suspicions? Beer? Whiskey? My treat for your tale.”

Colt perked up a little bit at the mention of alcohol. “Keep it flowing and I’ll tell you my whole life story.” He narrowed his eyes at Sam. “Should be retired by now, but someone here likes to keep me around.”

Sam rolled his eyes while his lips quirked up in a smile. “Don’t go spreading rumours now. I told you to retire five years ago.”

“Came with him from his daddy’s ranch, I did,” Colt continued on, which had Gabriel grinning with amusement.

Sam waved them off. “Oh, just go and get to know each other. Drink your booze.” He turned away, throwing his hands up in an exaggerated manner. “I’ll just be here doing the real work.”

“I’ll meet you up front,” he heard Colt saying, before he likely headed off to the storage shed where he and Gary kept their tools and personal items.

Heading into the barn to grab his hand weeding tool, he heard footsteps follow behind him, so he paused.

“Postpone our plans until tomorrow?” Gabriel said.

Sam turned. The other man had stopped between the open barn doors and was leaning against the entrance. His hands were tucked in his pockets, his golden eyes apologetic.

“I want to hear his story. Get what information I can and compare it to what you’ve already told me about the land, its history, and the events that have been occurring lately.”

“It’s okay, Gabe. I understand,” he said honestly.

“Gabe?” He straightened and took a step toward Sam, who was suddenly at a loss for words.

“I—Uh…Yes?” He hadn’t meant that to come out like a question. Desperately he wanted to run and hide. Perhaps Dean’s pigs would take him in.

“Well then. I suppose I need a nickname for you as well.” Gabriel rubbed his hands together, his grin widening. He stepped closer.

Both relieved and scared his use of the nickname, he argued, “Sam is a nickname. Technically.”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, no. That doesn’t count.” He tapped a finger against his lips as he considered the conundrum. “And I’m going to presume not Sammy, given your reaction to that woman using it this morning.”

Sam quickly voiced his agreement.

“I am quite fond of Samsquatch.”

Sam wrinkled his nose and Gabriel chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Ah! I got it.”

Sam waited impatiently. Did he want to know?

But Gabriel just watched him fidget. Smirking like a madman with a secret.

“And?” Sam finally prompted.

“Oh, I’m not going to just tell you. You’re going to hear it when you least expect it.”

Sam crossed his arms. “You do realize that I control your meals while you’re here, right?”

“Oh, Sam,” Gabriel sang, clapping him on the shoulder. “Starving me would be a breach of contract.”

Sam gapped at him as Gabriel turned and strode back through the doorway.

“Besides,” he added over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t be able to outlast me anyway. Your curiosity is too great.”

And unfortunately for Sam, he was pretty sure Gabriel was right.

The next week passed like a roller coaster, fluctuating between flurries of activity that were over in the blink of an eye and quiet moments that lasted for ages and ages. At least, it felt that way to Sam.

Gabriel had his ‘meeting’ with Colt, as well as with Gary the following day once the young man had recovered from his illness and returned to work. As far as Sam could tell, nothing came out of those meetings, or at least nothing that Gabriel had deemed worthy enough to share.

The pesticide that Sam had ordered the day Gabriel had arrived came in and was applied. An exhausting amount of work it had been, but at least that was one matter handled.

The lab with Gabriel’s soil samples, however, had experienced some delays and had not yet sent back the results. Gabriel was putting pressure on them, but even as well-know as he was, he was still getting the run-around.

Gabriel had requested to speak with Dean, hoping to get some more background on the land the farm sat on until the soil results came in, but the Winchester Ranch was in the middle of hosting its annual fair, so he and Castiel were up to their elbows in livestock, cotton candy, and squalling children. An image that always amused Sam and had him wondering when the two of them would adopt their third child. Particularly as Claire and Jack were getting older now.

Sam had been intending to visit, and would have taken Gabriel with him. Seeing the ranch may or may not have triggered Gabriel’s memories, but it would have been the perfect place for Sam to come clean. Unfortunately, the pesticide had arrived at the same time and Sam hadn’t wanted to wait to apply it. A sadly missed opportunity, but he hadn’t been willing to risk a second wave of bugs.

Beyond the demands of the farm, the evenings had been stunningly peaceful. More often than not, after dinner was done, he and Gabriel would find themselves sitting in the wicker chairs on the back porch, looking out at the fields or up at the stars if it was a clear night.

Sometimes one or both of them would be their laptop, or perhaps a book. But a lot of the time they just sat. Sam would have his tea, and Gabriel would moan and complain about the lack of alcohol, but would also drink the tea Sam made for him in the end. And they would just talk.

And Sam couldn’t help but wonder how things would have turned out so different, if they had just talked like this on that night nineteen years ago.

It was in those moments, as he reflected on the past, that he began to realize how much his memories paled in comparison to the real Gabriel, sitting next to him.

They were both older, wiser, and had been through some depressing shit. But all that only served to make Gabriel more interesting to Sam, and it also kindled a new spark, or at least changed the feel of the one that had burned all these years.

Because fire that simmered low in Sam’s belly now was no longer the burn-bright-and-hot-for-an-instant flame of youth and hormones, nor the pale reflection of memories past, but the slow fanning of desire into something greater.

And heavens be praised, Gabriel actually seemed to feel the same way about him. Sam didn’t take the teasing or suggestive comments too seriously, as that all seemed part and parcel of Gabriel’s personality, but instead he found it in certain moments. When he would share a new piece of his past. When he revealed that he absolutely hated pineapple but couldn’t care less about being a little shorter than average. When he caught Gabriel watching him out of the corner of his eye. When Sam met that gaze and he didn’t turn away, but instead offered one of his real smiles.

Yet, despite all that, neither of them had made a move. Sure, there had been brief touches in passing and more than a few awkward instances around the house, typically in the early morning. But otherwise, nothing.

He didn’t know what Gabriel was thinking, but from his side, Sam was worried about ruining the balance that they had found. Not to mention that Gabriel still had no idea that he was the young man from the party so long ago, if he even remembered him.

Jessica now issued daily threats that she would tell Gabriel if he didn’t “get his ass in gear” and do it himself, but Sam still put off pulling that trigger.

Nevertheless, Sam procrastinated. Telling himself that he wanted to find the right moment.

Attending the fair, at the ranch where it had all started, would have been a good moment, but what was done was done.

So, Sam started planning a new outing. Another trip into town with the initial purpose of picking up groceries, which he did, in fact, need. But they wouldn’t fetch the groceries right away. Instead, he would take Gabriel to his own favourite place—a locally-owned coffee shop that catered to those who enjoyed a quiet place to read or get some work done that wasn’t home or the office. There, he would tell Gabriel the truth, and they would talk.

And with luck, the atmosphere would keep either of them from freaking out too much.

At dawn on the planned not-a-date, Sam was wide awake in his room, tossing around all of his plaid and flannel. He discarded option after option, until a particular piece caught his eye. It was a dark leather vest reminiscent of what he had worn to _that_ end of season party. The original, of course, had long since lived its usefulness, nor would it have fit his current, larger frame, but the two were close enough in resemblance.

As he had before, he paired it with a white, Western-style shirt—one of the few white pieces he owned since white fabric tended not to last very long on a farm—along with his best pair of jeans and his own cowboy boots, which were soft and supple from being well broken in.

Would the sight of him in these clothes trigger Gabriel’s memory?

Nervous as hell, Sam crept out of his room and past Gabriel’s closed door, catching the sound of soft snoring coming from inside the room.

Once he had made it outside, he hiked over to the barn where, if his timing was right, Colt would be getting ready to head out into the fields.

When he arrived, however, he found it empty. Strangely, although Colt’s thermos of overpoweringly strong coffee, along with his overcoat, had been left on a workbench inside, both his toolbox and usual tractor were also still there. Which meant that he had arrived for work, but hadn’t yet headed out.

Sam was glancing around, scratching his head and wondering where Colt could have gone off to—taking a bathroom break perhaps—when he heard it. The sound of curses coming from elsewhere outside.

Venturing out, he followed Colt’s voice to the pump house, where he found him shutting off the electrical breakers.

Which had Sam extremely confused and concerned.

“What’s going on?” He wanted to give Colt the benefit of the doubt, but a very, very good excuse would be needed to explain cutting the power to equipment that supplied water to the irrigation system. They couldn’t afford to not have that water flowing during the dry heat they’d been having.

Colt turned to Sam after flipping the last switch, a grim expression on his face.

Sam swallowed heavily.

“Come with me,” he said, motioning for Sam to follow him back outside, which he did with trepidation.

He led him out behind the pump house and pointed at the ground a few meters away.

But ground it was no longer. No, Sam was greeted by a veritable pond of water that covered the area around the back of the pump house and a good way out into the field behind it.

“What happened?”

“Looks to me like the main pipe for the irrigation system is broken.”

And with those words, Sam’s day imploded.


	5. Chapter Five

Once the water flow had been stopped, the next task was to drain away the water that had pooled so that they could access the pipe and assess the damage.

Sam had absolutely no hesitation as he splashed into the murky puddle with an old manual water pump that he’d had kicking around, attached to a length of hose. Colt, meanwhile, kept an eye on the other end of the hose, twenty-five feet away.

There was no time to waste. The twenty acres of irrigation that this particular well serviced just so happened to be the twenty acres in which this year’s strawberry crop was planted, the rest being planted with his preferred rotational crops, such as sweet corn, field peas, or buckwheat. Losing those out-of-rotation fields would not have been so devastating, but if the acres of strawberries wilted from lack of water, Sam didn’t know what he’d do. Not to mention, the current heat wave adding even more urgency to the situation.

Getting the irrigation back up and running was _essential_.

He was still pumping, a slow, laborious process, when Gabriel found him.

Glancing up and seeing him striding over, his hair practically gold in the early morning sunlight and his usual cheeky grin in place, had Sam’s heart stuttering in his chest. His wet hands slipped on the pump and it nearly took a tumble into the foot of water that remained at the puddle’s deepest point.

He had been kneeling in the water in order to work the pump, but he stood as Gabriel arrived at the edge of the puddle.

As always, he was dressed pristinely: a black dress shirt with a design of red roses above the collar bone, paired with another pair of designer jeans.

“Irrigation?” Gabriel asked simply, his gaze tracking from the pump house, across the water, to the field beyond.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Sam stood, stretching the muscles in his back, arms and shoulders, which had stiffened somewhat during the process of pumping the water.

As Gabriel watched him, that gaze, like burnt honey in the sunlight, appraising, Sam realized, with self-conscious horror, what he must look like. Wet and muddy. Not fit to go anywhere. Let alone on the outing he had originally planned for that day. His carefully chosen outfit, ruined.

He didn’t regret the actions he had taken, but perhaps he could have spared a few minutes to change before splashing into the miniature pond that had formed from the leak.

But what was done, was done.

As he was coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t impressing anyone that day, he noticed Gabriel rolling up his sleeves.

Sam frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Helping. Give me the pump. It’s my turn.” And before Sam could stop him, Gabriel was marching straight into the water, jeans and all.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he protested. “Colt and I can switch out.” Quickly, he waved Colt over.

Gabriel shook his head, stopping in front of Sam and outstretching his hand. “I’m sure Colt has other tasks to take care of. You and I can do this, and it’s my turn.”

“Gabriel—”

“Don’t be stubborn, Sam. I’ve decided that I’m helping, so just accept it.”

“Who’s stubborn?” Sam grumbled.

Gabriel grinned. “Both of us, it seems.” He wiggled his fingers. “But I will out stubborn you, so you might as well give in now.”

With a roll of his eyes, but also a relieved smile catching on his lips, he handed over the pump. If Gabriel really wanted to help, who was he to refuse. And the damage to his clothes was already done anyway.

He turned and took a step to make his way out of the mid-calf-high water, when something hooked his foot and he flailed forward. With nothing to stop his fall, he splashed down into the water.

Lifting his head from the water, sputtering and now completely soaking wet from head to toe, Sam moved his dripping hair from his eyes, only to see Gabriel doubled over with laughter.

Sam shot to his feet, glaring at Gabriel as he straightened and wiped a tear from his eye.

“Did you just trip me?”

“Yes,” Gabriel managed, clearly fighting back more laughter. “You had mud in your hair. Needed to rinse it out.”

Sam’s mouth opened. Closed.

Gabriel grinned cheekily, and Sam’s eyes narrowed.

_Oh, he_ _’s in for it now._

Without warning, Sam surged forward and, like a linebacker, tackled Gabriel into the water. While he sputtered, hair water-darkened and dripping, Sam attempted to make his escape.

But Gabriel wasn’t done with him yet. Grabbing hold of his ankle, he got Sam back on his knees. Sam retaliated with a huge splash aimed at Gabriel, which caught him by surprise.

Everything was fair game after that.

At one point, he ended up scooping Gabriel up with the full intention of dropping him bodily into the water, but paused when he caught sight of Gabriel’s face. The flush of exertion that dipped down below the shirt that had molded to his body. The twinkling of deviousness and delight in his eyes.

Gabriel’s brown eyes caught his, questioning, and Sam was tempted to do something crazy. Like catch those grinning lips with his own.

But Sam wasn’t ready for that yet.

With a yelp, Gabriel dropped into the water. And so it continued.

In the midst of dunking both himself and Gabriel back in the water, his arms wrapped around his opponent’s waist from behind while Gabriel just laughed helplessly, a throat clearing had Sam freezing.

Colt stood at the edge of the water in a patch of mud created from their splashing, with an eyebrow raised and amusement on his face.

Sam’s skin heated and he immediately released Gabriel, whose laughter had ceased when Sam had stopped.

Avoiding looking at Gabriel, Sam quickly apologized to Colt.

Colt just shrugged. “Want me to take a turn, or would you rather I left you both to it?”

“Uh, we’ll take over from here. Thanks, Colt.”

He waved off the gratitude. “Just make sure you actually pump the water away. Much more efficient than splashing it around,” he said as he strode away.

If Sam could have flushed harder, he would have.

But despite the sort-of reprimand and the absolute embarrassment of having been caught causing such a scene—by his own employee, no less—Sam had never felt more alive.

His stress over the burst pipe had been completely washed away, even if only for a little while. He couldn’t remember the last time he had really let go like that.

Before reality fully set back in, he wanted to hold onto this little bit of joy for as long as he could.

Sneaking a glance over at Gabriel, he found him hunting through the water. For the pump, he belatedly realized, which Gabriel must have dropped at some point.

He wanted to tell Gabriel to leave it and just pick up where they left off, chasing that fleeting happiness.

He wanted to drag him to the house where they could maybe chase a different kind of bliss.

He wanted to confess their shared history. Here and now. Quaint coffee shop be damned.

But he didn’t do any of those things. Because, dammit, he had responsibilities. And, as much as he hated himself for it sometimes, wishing he could be selfish or impulsive, he was a responsible man.

So, he let Gabriel retrieve the pump and made his way out of the water to do his part to save his strawberries.

They didn’t talk about that ‘wet and wild’ morning, as Sam had dubbed it in his mind, over the next few days. Though Gabriel did flick some water at him one evening while they were doing dishes, which had both of them breaking out in giggles.

On the day they dumped the last load of dirt over the newly repaired pipe, however, a new problem arrived: Dean and Castiel invited him and Gabriel over for dinner.

It was a problem because Sam had a few things to clarify before then, and so far, he had gotten nowhere.

Although there had been opportune moments—like when they both broken out in giggles after Gabriel flicked some water at him one evening while they were doing dishes—he and Gabriel hadn’t even talked about that ‘wet and wild’ morning, as Sam had dubbed it in his mind.

But Dean promised him the ranch’s records as additional incentive so, without an excuse to postpone the visit, Sam decided that he would reveal the truth to Gabriel on their way to the ranch. That way, he concluded, he would still be able to control the conversation, rather than surprising Gabriel when he saw the ranch.

Therefore, Sam insisted on driving, presumably so that Gabriel could take in the scenery as he pointed it out.

As they drove, he first told himself that he was keeping an eye out for a good spot to do the deed.

But as they got closer… and closer… and closer to their final destination, Sam had to face the fact that he was stalling.

Perhaps he could get away with not telling Gabriel? After all, it had been nearly two decades since Gabriel had been to the ranch, and a lot had changed in that time. Particularly after Dean had taken over, and then again when Castiel had come into the picture, adding their own touches to the place.

And so, he justified keeping his secret and instead spoke of everything else _but_ that.

After pulling onto the ranch’s long drive, Sam’s side of their dialogue dropped off as nostalgia hit him hard.

_God, I missed this place._

He kept an eye on Gabriel as they drew closer to the main house, but the other man didn’t demonstrate any outward signs of recognition or surprise that Sam could notice.

It was as he was parking his truck, and Dean stepped outside to greet them, that he realized his mistake.

The documents.

All of the ranch’s old documents would have its original name on it: _Campbell_. Not _Winchester_.

Once Gabriel saw those, there would be no hiding the truth.

But it was too late.

With dread building up within him, making his palms sweat and his breath come quicker, he stepped out of the truck.

Introductions followed swiftly, then they made their way inside where they were immediately greeted with a sweet and savoury aroma coming from the kitchen.

“Make yourselves at home. Dinner will be ready in a minute,” he heard Castiel call.

Dean waved them toward the dining room. “Normally we cook together, but whenever we have guests, I’ve learned to keep my distance.”

Sam took his usual seat across from Dean, and Gabriel elected to sit beside him.

“Where are Jack and Claire?” he asked, noticing that the table was only set for four.

Dean smiled fondly; probably not even aware he was doing so. “Oh, they’re at Jody’s, visiting with Alex and Patience. Kaia’s in town for the weekend, so of course Claire headed over as soon as she heard. And nowadays, where Claire goes, Jack follows.”

Sam chuckled.

“To Claire’s frustration, of course,” Castiel added as he entered with a platter of honeyed ham.

Sam stood to help, but the sound of another chair being pushed back snagged his attention. Because Gabriel had also stood and he was staring at Castiel.

Castiel, for his part, blinked for only a second in surprise, and then smiled widely.

“Gabriel,” he said as he placed the platter on the table. “I had been hoping it was you. I’m so glad that you took my advice.”

Sam, unable to process exactly what was happening, watched as Gabriel moved around the table and the two of them embraced briefly.

“It’s been a long time, Cas,” Gabriel said. “You never mentioned that you had gotten married when we spoke on the phone last month. Congrats.”

Castiel shrugged innocently. “The topic never arose.”

“Hold on,” Dean interrupted, holding up his hands. “You two know each other? You never mentioned.”

Which was exactly what Sam wanted to know, but he was still too busy being dumbfounded by this revelation to speak.

Gabriel pointed his thumb at Castiel. “We’re cousins. Except I’m sort of estranged from the family, so it makes sense that I wouldn’t come up in polite conversation. Before last month, we hadn’t talked in… What? A decade?”

“Something like that,” Castiel agreed.

Then Gabriel turned to Sam. “This is the family that I told you gave me your farm as the referral.”

Dean frowned and caught Castiel by the shoulder. “You didn’t tell me you’d recommended someone. What about Ellen and _Harvelle Harvesters_?”

“I didn’t recommend anyone to Sam. Your suggestion was still completely valid. I just also happened to know a horticulturist looking for work on a small farm, and a small farm that needed help.” He clasped Dean’s hand in his own. “But I’d never seen or looked into Gabriel’s work, so I couldn’t honestly make a recommendation to Sam. It was up to Gabriel to win him over. I just passed along Sam’s name.”

Placated, Dean released Castiel’s shoulder, then squeezed his hand before letting go.

Meanwhile, Gabriel was watching Sam, his features oddly shuttered, as if we were waiting for Sam’s reaction.

Sam swallowed. “So, um.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Was Cas the one you were staying with? You know, twenty or so years ago… when you visited Lawrence last? That time you mentioned?”

He wanted to slap himself. Dean, who knew the general story of the ‘one-night-stand’ nineteen years ago, raised an eyebrow at Sam.

When he gave him a subtle nod, Dean’s eyes widened exponentially, making Castiel tilt his head at him in confusion.

Still, thankfully, focused on Sam, yet still acting mysteriously restrained, Gabriel nodded. “It was, in fact.”

“Ah.” _Eloquent, Sam._

Dean chose that moment to clap his hands together. “Let’s go get the rest of the food, Cas, before it gets cold.”

Castiel appeared about to protest, but one look from Dean had him shutting his mouth and allowing Dean to manoeuvre him out of the kitchen.

An acknowledging nod from Dean was all Sam needed to pull himself back together.

He took a breath.

“Gabriel,” he began. “About that time…” He clenched his hands, digging deep for the courage to push past his fears. He closed his eyes. “There’s something I should tell you.”

His heart pounded in his chest like a drum of war signalling his imminent demise by mortification. He was so scared.

Scared of that cherished memory, which had gotten him through one of the toughest times of his life, was about to sour.

Scared that Gabriel wouldn’t even remember him.

Scared that even if he did, that he wouldn’t care about some random fling two decades ago.

That he didn’t care about Sam now.

A calloused hand touched his arm. Gabriel’s hand.

A sigh.

“You are insanely stubborn, you know that?”

Sam’s eyes blinked open. “Excuse me?” He had wanted to sound offended, but his words had come out almost like a plea.

Gabriel’s lips lifted in a somber smile. His eyes equally soft and sad. “It’s me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Sam. You’re too smart to pull it off successfully.” His words were harsh, but his tone was gentle. “Winchester Ranch is Campbell Ranch. I discovered it in my research on your farm’s history before coming here.”

_What? He—He knew all along?_

He took a step back, but Gabriel followed, keeping close to him.

“It was you,” he continued. “From that night. It’s always been you.”

And just like that, Sam’s heart was racing like a jack-rabbit’s. He blinked owlishly at Gabriel. “You remember me?”

“Of course, though I don’t know if I would have recognized you at first without knowing beforehand. I mean, Christ, Sam, look at you. You’ve grown so much since then. You were a scrawny little beanpole back then, and now—” He waved a hand, gesturing at Sam’s large, muscled, and very clearly matured physical form.

Heat spread up his neck and across his cheeks.

“I see it now though.” Gabriel eyes drifted over Sam, lingering at last on his eyes, locking his gaze with Sam’s so fiercely that Sam could barely breathe through the pressure of it. “Something in your words, your eyes. The way you smile. I don’t trust people easily, Sam. But with you…I could feel it happening. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“But you already knew who I was,” he continued. “You’d already recognized me. How long, Sam?”

With herculean effort, Sam broke their eye-lock and cast his gaze away from Gabriel’s now stern expression. He swallowed. “Since the moment I saw you.”

Silence.

Sam risked glancing up. Anger blazed in those turbulent brown eyes.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Quickly, he attempted to explain his actions. “I was scared. I didn’t even know if you’d remember me. And even if you did, if that night meant nothing to you, I—I just couldn’t do it.” But then, as Gabriel stood there with his hands on his hips, Sam reversed the conversation. “What about you? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Gabriel pointed at himself, eyes wide in disbelief. “Me? I was following your lead, Sam. I came up to you, teasing about seeing a ghost, and then you promptly shook my hand and introduced yourself.” He shook his head. “Like you didn’t even know me.”

Gabriel’s gaze found his again, and the pain in those eyes had Sam’s heart aching in return. “At first I thought that was it. You didn’t remember me. It hurt, but then way you reacted to me at times—I decided that even if you didn’t remember, perhaps I could jog your memory, or at least win you over again. Hells bells, Sam. Did you really think I paraded around in my underwear at all my jobs? Or went on romantic picnics and frolicked in the water with my bosses?”

He rolled his eyes, then Gabriel’s expression, which had gone wistful, turned stern once again. “But then there were some things Jess said. And the way you avoided certain topics about the ranch, or that particular point in your history.”

“I’m sorry, Gabe,” Sam said quietly, reaching out to take Gabriel’s hand and bowing his head, hiding his regret. “I’m so sorry. I was scared, but I should have told you the truth from the start.”

Gabriel sighed, the brush of it caressing Sam’s neck. “I know. That’s why I didn’t push until now.”

Sam stepped closer, feeling like he was standing on the edge of a mountain, looking at the drop below, wanting so badly to jump, to fall. “So, we’re good?” he asked hopefully.

“Sam, I don’t know if I want to punch you or kiss you right now, so I’m going to settle for walking away.”

And Sam panicked. “No, Gabriel. Please don’t go.” Without really knowing what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed hold of Gabriel’s sleeve. “Don’t leave me again.”

Gabriel shook his head, his expression sad. “I’m not leaving, Sam. I signed a contract that I would see this through to the end, and I will. We both just need to take a step back to figure out where we want to go from here.”

Feeling a thousand times heavier, Sam released the fabric he had been clutching. “I understand.”

_My fault. I should have told him the truth from the start._

“So, I’m going to go have a quick chat with my cousin. Then we’re going to grab the documents and a couple doggy bags, and then we’re heading home.”

And after doing exactly that, Sam left with a conciliatory pat from Dean and a sympathetic smile from Castiel, then slunk into bed feeling cold and alone.

 _We didn_ _’t even get to talk about that night,_ was Sam’s last thought as he drifted into a restless sleep so late at night it was practically early.


	6. Chapter Six

Gabriel ended up going into town alone the next day.

And he continued to keep his distance from Sam after his return.

For the next few days that passed, Sam felt like he was walking a razor’s edge. On one side: Gabriel decides that he wants nothing to do with him, he leaves and his farm crashes and burns. On the other side: he decides that he does want to try something with Sam. Both equally terrifying.

In the rational side of his mind, he knew that Gabriel wouldn’t just abandon him to the mercies of whatever was going on with his farm, but that didn’t stop the non-rational side from worrying.

Of Sam’s two long-term relationships, both had been with females. One was now his friend, but the other was an evil skank bent on destroying him. Though, granted, she had always been an evil skank. He had just been too blind to see it at the time, and she had been a good actress.

Of his one-night stands and brief flings, they had all ended nearly as badly as his relationship with Ruby. So, his track record didn’t inspire much confidence.

And Gabriel… Well, as Jess had so aptly stated, he was the one who had gotten away. The one shinning golden memory that he’d clung to over the intervening years.

The pressure to do this right was real.

He knew what he wanted. He wanted to take the primal chemistry from when they had been younger, and the actual emotional bond he had felt developing recently, and see where they led. He wanted to take a chance on them—no matter how it ended up.

Because as much as the idea of it ending badly scared him, the thought of never getting a chance to try had scared him even more.

He needed to end this distance and win Gabriel over. Prove to him that he still felt the same way as he had nineteen years ago. Deeper even, now that he’d gotten a chance to really know Gabriel.

And that was why he called Castiel.

After all, the socially awkward accountant had won over his formally repressed and romantically-inept brother, frequenter of bars and porn websites, and had succeeded in turning him into a lovey-dovey, gooey-eyed, family man. Surely, he had a tip or two.

Unfortunately, after a lengthy chat that ended with Sam wanting to gouge out his eardrums, it turned out that Castiel’s recommendations were very _Dean-specific_ and rather unhelpful for Sam’s case.

On the fourth day, post-revelation, Sam had just begun preparing ingredients for dinner when the doorbell rang. Gabriel was in the shower, having gotten quite dusty out in the fields from some high winds that had begun picking up, so Sam dried off his hands and went to answer it.

He immediately regretted that decision, however, when he found Azazel Masters standing in the doorway. His disconcerting yellow eyes peered at Sam like a juicy piece of meat he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Clenching the door frame so tightly that the bones in his hands creaked, Sam braced himself and said, “I already told your colleague that I’m not interested. I will never be interested. Please relay that message to your boss and stop coming here.”

He moved to firmly shut the door in Azazel’s face, but the man actually grasped hold of the door and stepped into Sam’s personal space.

Tensing, Sam stood his ground. “Get off of my property,” he managed to say through gritted teeth, “or I’ll call the sheriff, who is a close personal friend.”

“Mr. Morningstar wants this property.” His voice was low and slick, and it felt like a violation, sliding into Sam’s ear. “And what Mr. Morningstar wants, he gets.”

Sam shuddered. “Is that a threat?”

After holding his position for just long enough to make it clear that he was doing it on purpose, but not long enough for Sam to call him on it, Azazel finally stepped back.

“Not at all,” he said congenially. “Simply a statement of fact. Good day, Mr. Winchester.”

Then the vile man turned and strode off down the lane, back to his car. Which was about the point Sam realized that he hadn’t even been carrying any paperwork with him.

_He never intended to bargain. Just to scare me_ , he realized as he stumbled his way to his couch, collapsing upon it. He couldn’t explain while Azazel got to him the way he did, but the man had always unnerved him.

When Gabriel emerged from the shower a short while later, Sam heard him go straight to his room. By that point he had gained enough stability in his limbs to make his way to the kitchen and resume dinner, which was where Gabriel then found him.

As they were eating, he brought up the visitor.

“Are you okay?” Gabriel demanded first. Followed by: “That rat bastard.”

Sam couldn’t help feeling a little pleased at Gabriel’s concern. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “He didn’t do anything except make a non-threat and overstay his welcome.”

Gabriel gave him a look.

Sam sighed. “I may have gotten a little shaken, but that’s just because Azazel gives me the creeps. It’s nothing. I promise.”

Gabriel still looked unconvinced, but Sam turned the topic to lighter subjects and the matter was dropped.

The following day’s mail came with news: the laboratory results had come in.

The remnant minerals in the soil samples from the field that had died two years ago, which Sam had since been able to recover, demonstrated that the field had indeed been salted with a brand of road salt.

In other words, they had proof of sabotage, but no proof as to who had done it.

But at least the other fields seemed to be fine, and this was a place to start.

“Call him,” Gabriel said after they read the letter, and he handed Sam a business card starting, “Frank Devereaux. Attorney-At-Law. Corporate Litigation.”

The rest of the day was spent on the phone with Frank, who as it turned out had been building a case against _Graceful Growers_ , and Lucifer Morningstar in particular, for years.

Sam had to go over and over again and again every single communication or meeting he had ever had with _Graceful Growers_ and its employees. Frank was particularly interested in Ruby and the seven months they had dated before Sam had realized her true motivations.

It was difficult, knowing that Gabriel was hearing everything that he was saying, but on the other hand, Sam wasn’t sure he would have been able to talk about it as much as Frank needed him to if Gabriel hadn’t been there with his support.

Having to pause because Gabriel was swearing vengeance on every single employee of _Graceful Growers_ and Frank was having to pull him back on track, making Sam burst out in laughter in the process, made the whole thing bearable.

That night, for the first time since their conversation at the ranch, neither of them went straight to their separate rooms after dinner.

Instead, Sam broke out the good whiskey and they had a drink on the back porch, watching the star wheel over the field.

At first, they spoke of the case, but gradually the talk turned to Jess and if they should bring her into it, to her wine business, to the future of the farm, and finally to their own futures.

“Well, so long as I don’t get run out by the competition, in five years, ten years, I’ll still be here,” Sam was saying. “This farm is my future, so I have no plans to go elsewhere.”

“Sounds lonely,” came Gabriel’s response. “I mean, I know you have Dean, Cas, Jess, and your other friends. But what about here? What about in the late evening and you just want someone there beside you?”

Sam looked over at him, but they hadn’t turned on the porch light in order to see the stars better, so all he could see was a shadowy figure.

“Most of the time, yeah, it is,” he agreed. Then: “But I haven’t been lonely the last couple weeks. You’ve been here.”

The shadow shifted. “What about when I’m not? The harvest is coming. The season’s almost over.”

Sam took a breath. Took a chance. “You’re welcome to stay longer. You—you don’t have to go.”

“Sam—”

“I don’t want you to go. Please stay.”

Sam wanted to go to Gabriel, to plead with his actions as well as his words. But he was afraid that, like a bird, Gabriel would startle into flight.

It took Gabriel a minute before he said, “I don’t know yet, Sam.”

“That’s okay,” Sam said immediately. “There’s no rush. I’ve only waited nineteen years. What’s a little more time?”

That earned him a laugh.

“That. That quiet confidence is what drew me to you back then. You were this gangly young man, just discovering himself, but you surveyed that room like you owned the place.” A chuckle. “Which I suppose you sort of did. But not in an overbearing or creepy way. More like you honestly cared about the wellbeing of everyone in that room and you carried that responsibility with you. And I wanted you to look at me like that.”

“Did I? Look at you like that?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“And it felt warm. Like I was safe and protected. I—I had never really felt like that before.”

Sam’s hands twitched and his heart ached, wanting to wrap Gabriel up in that protection.

“You were a light, like the sun, and I wanted to bask in your energy. Always moving, always in the middle of whatever most exciting thing was going on. I watched you for hours. My eyes just kept being drawn to you.”

“You let me seduce you. Steal you away from the party.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to learn to live in the moment like you did.”

“And did you?”

“ _God, yes._ ” Sam closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he imagined it. “But then morning came and the moment was gone.”

“Is that why you left?”

“I didn’t think someone like you would want some fawning kid hanging around. The age gap seemed so large back then, but it’s really not. You’re only four years older than me.”

“I looked for you,” Gabriel admitted. “When I woke up and you were gone, I asked around, but I didn’t know your name and clearly I asked the wrong people.”

“I had been interning with a family friend that summer, so any seasonal workers might not have known me. I only returned just in time for the end-of-season party,” Sam explained. “Then I was off to college myself. But I always regretted not staying.”

“At least we’ve been given a second chance.”

Sam smiled at that. “Yes, a second chance.”

They remained like that in silence for a little while longer until Gabriel stood.

“I’m going to hit the sack. Goodnight, Samshine.”

Gabriel’s fingers brushed his arm as he passed.

Sam twisted in his chair and caught the hem of Gabriel’s shirt. “Samshine?”

Backlit by the interior lights, Gabriel’s lips quirked. “Because you’re my sun.” Then he gave an exaggerated shudder. “Lord, that sounded cheesy.”

“I like cheese.”

“That’s even cheesier.” Gabriel playfully swatted his hand away. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Gabe.”

Hands roamed up Sam’s body, exploring and teasing. Fingertips played against sensitive patches of skin, bare to the cool night air that did nothing to combat his overheated flesh.

They were on his thighs.

His hips.

Across his ribs.

He gasped as his nipples were tweaked, then sucked into a hot mouth, one at a time. At his sides, his own hands fisted the sheets beneath him, the teasing growing unbearable.

His hips lifted, his hard, aching cock seeking friction to move things along, to find that sweet release.

In the back of his mind, he knew this wasn’t like him. He usually had much more control, but for some reason, his body wanted to get straight to the end game, like he was eighteen again. But he just couldn’t help himself. He _needed._

A hand gently pressed his hips back down onto the mattress, and a voice above him said, “Easy there, Samshine. You’re not nearly hot and bothered enough yet for that.”

That voice. He knew that voice.

Sam’s eyes opened to a swirl of molten chocolate staring down at him, the liquid fire in that gaze scorching his already fevered body into an even higher frenzy.

_Gabriel._

And then Sam awoke, gasping, his body ready to combust. And he was once more in his bed, in his own farmhouse. Not a horny young man about to experience the best sexual encounter of his life.

Trembling with the force of his desire, he squeezed his eyes shut against the morning light, attempting to calm his racing heart and laboured breathing.

And _damn_ was he hot.

Frustrated, aching, and overheated, Sam threw off the light sheet that he slept under during the summer and sat up. Running a hand through his hair, he felt it stick to his sweaty forehead and neck.

As he debated whether to take a cold shower or jerk off right then and there, he noticed that the light playing against the wall was strange.

The light.

The heat.

The smell on the air from the windows that he left open, which he was now noticing as he began actually paying attention.

His eyes drifted downward to the watch on his wrist that brightly glowed with the time: 2:05 AM.

Throwing himself off the bed, he bolted around it to throw open his glass doors, and a blast of heat buffeted him.

_Fire._

“No…no.” For a moment, all Sam could do was stare in agony as the inferno raging across the field before him consumed all his hard work. His livelihood. His one last source of independence.

All his accomplishments. Gone.

All his goals. Gone.

In an instant, everything was destroyed.

“Sam!”

Gabriel’s voice snapped him out of his paralysis. The other man raced up beside him and grasped his arm. “I’ve called 9-1-1. You need to call your employees and your neighbours. See if they can help. Not everything is lost.”

With Gabriel’s words, the panic cleared away.

Back in his right mind again, Sam nodded and strode the five steps over to his bedside table where his phone always rested during the night.

He began dialling as Gabriel continued speaking. “Your irrigation system: it’s still running again, yes?”

“Yes,” he replied over the ringing on the phone line.

“Your wells, where are they? Do you have a water tank?”

“Closest one is here, by the house. No tank. The pump house had one though.”

“Got it.” And then Gabriel was gone. Disappearing beyond the sliding doors and out into the flickering-orange night and blistering heat outside.

“Gabriel!” Sam called after him.

Then the phone line clicked and a gruff voice grumbled, “This had better be damn good, Sammy.”

“Fire. Dean, the farm’s on fire.”

A brief shuffling over the line, followed by a muffled, “Cas, wake up.” Then Dean was back on the line. “We’re on our way.”

He called Jess next. Then Colt and Gary.

All the while, he tried not to panic about Gabriel outside, alone.

The second he hung up his call to Gary, he rushed outside to find Gabriel. Thankfully, he didn’t have to look too far. Gabriel had gathered all the buckets he could find from around Sam’s house, as well as a number of pots, and had brought them over the well at the side of the house to be filled.

Without a word, Sam immediately got to work helping him with the task, and a few minutes later, he heard the distinctive roar of Dean’s Impala pull up in front of the house. And a few seconds after that, Dean himself was racing around the house, along with Castiel and Bobby.

The three of them stopped dead in their tracks when they caught sight of the blaze in the field, and Sam tried desperately not to breakdown at the pitying and hopeless expressions on each of their faces.

Only Gabriel’s hand on his stopped him from collapsing onto the dirt.

“Stop gawking like a bunch of bird-brained tourists, get your asses over here, and help!”

Gabriel’s admonition had the desired effect of spurring the three men into action.

But even with the five of them working, they were barely making a dent in the inferno as it spread further and further.

After what seemed like an eternity battling the blaze, the fire trucks showed up, shortly followed by Gary, Colt, Jess, and what seemed like half the neighbourhood.

Sooty, exhausted, and choking on the smoky air, Sam watched in stunned awe as they all worked for the rest of the night and into the morning to put out the fire.

He continued to pitch in where he could, until the paramedics arrived and hauled him away for smoke inhalation. He nearly fought them on it, but Dean and Gabriel forcibly restricted him until he was sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Once the fire had been extinguished with no injuries other than mild smoke inhalation, and the fire marshal had deemed it safe, Gabriel, Dean and Cas, who had been directing the volunteer efforts like an army general, dragged Sam into the house.

They tried to force him back to bed, but that was where Sam drew the line.

“I need to be awake. There’s so much that’ll need to be done.”

“We’ll take care of it,” Dean insisted.

“No,” Sam shook his head, making his overtired brain rattle in his skull. “It’s my farm. It should be me.”

Dean opened his mouth to continue arguing, but Castiel gave him a look and he closed it again.

Then Castiel turned his face to Sam, and with a stern expression, pointed at the couch and said, “Sit.”

Sam sat.

Then Castiel crooked a finger at Dean and they moved into the kitchen. Sam could hear them talking in hushed tones, probably about him.

Gabriel, who had been standing on the sidelines during the exchange, plopped down on the couch beside him.

“Phew, I feel like I could sleep for a month. I don’t know how you can manage to stay conscious.”

“I have to. It’s my responsibility,” was all Sam said.

“You could probably get away with closing your eyes for a bit. You know, just resting them while we wait for those important things that need to be done.”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?”

“I’m not going to sleep.”

“Who said anything about sleep? I was only talking about closing your eyes.”

And Gabriel demonstrated this by shutting his eyes and leaning back on the couch, one leg propped on the cushion, while the other dangled lazily, his arms draped over the back and arm of the couch.

He looked comfortable and completely at ease.

“Come here, Sam.” Without opening an eye, Gabriel waved a hand, beckoning Sam closer.

“What? Why?”

“I’ll tell you a secret.”

Warily, Sam asked, “What secret?”

“If you pretend to sleep, dumb and dumber over there will leave you alone. Then you can do all the moping and self-flagellation you want.”

Sam pondered on this. And… maybe he had a point? If they did think he was sleeping, surely Dean and Castiel would leave in order to let him sleep.

Still without opening an eye, Gabriel held out his hand, waggling his fingers.

And Sam took it.

Using strength Sam hadn’t known he possessed, Gabriel pulled Sam close, sending him off balance and flipping him onto his back until he was sprawled along the length of the couch, head resting on a pillow that had been propped against the couch arm.

And before he could take stock of his new position, Gabriel was snuggling up against him on the suddenly too small couch that had always seemed excessively big before.

“Gab—”

A finger pressed against his lips.

“Shhh… I’m also tired and want the two nannies to leave us be. So, close your eyes and pretend to be asleep.”

If Sam wasn’t completely wrecked physically and emotionally, he would have smiled at that.

Instead, he simply closed his eyes.

And despite his determination to remain awake to deal with the aftermath of the fire, his utter exhaustion and the comforting presence of Gabriel pressed up against him, lulled him to sleep within seconds.

As Gabriel had probably known it would.

The tricky bastard.


	7. Chapter Seven

A fit of coughing woke Sam. Eye watering, he attempted to climb off his bed to fetch a glass of water, only to stumble and fall on his ass when it turned out that he had actually been on the couch.

A groan drew his attention to the blanket he had left behind, from under which a pair of brown eyes peered blearily at him.

Gabriel gave another groan and rolled over, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself.

From his cocoon, he mumbled something similar to, “Too early.”

Sam wanted to climb back on that couch and curl his body around that cocoon, but another coughing fit prevented him, and also triggered his memories of the day before.

Suddenly, Sam felt a hundred pounds heavier. Rising slowing to his feet, he trudged to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water, delaying the inevitable.

After finishing the first glass and half of a second, he finally shuffled to his room and the door leading out back.

He stared at the drawn heavy curtains for a full minute, thinking only on the fact that someone must have closed them last night and avoiding thinking about anything else.

He reached out and took the curtain in hand, before pausing once more. Standing frozen.

A hand reached out and pressed onto his. Sam didn’t even have the energy to jump.

“You don’t have to do this now,” Gabriel said softly.

“Yes, I do.” His voice came out as a hoarse croak.

“Okay.” And he released him, stepping back to give him space.

But Sam just stared down at his hand on the curtain, unmoving.

“Can—Can you help me?” he finally managed to say.

“You sure, Sam?”

He nodded and released the curtains to Gabriel, who, after scanning his face for any hesitance, threw them open wide, revealing the disaster beyond.

The sky was appropriately ominous. Low, dark clouds promising the long-awaited rain.

The scorched earth below matched the mood perfectly. No longer could he detect any hint of sweet strawberries on the breeze. Only the acrid stench of the fire remained.

He opened the sliding door, moved in a trance down the porch, and just started walking, taking it all in. Gabriel followed silently a step behind him.

Standing in the middle of the waste, he stopped and said, “Everything is lost.”

He knew what he needed to hear. His imagination supplied the words of encouragement that Gabriel would say.

“You haven’t lost everything,” he would begin, as he showed Sam the areas that he intellectually knew were still intact. “You still have a good fifteen acres of product, insurance to cover the loss, and all of your normal fields to sow on next year. This field was going out of rotation anyway. And just think of how great the strawberries will be with all that ash fertilizing the soil when it comes time to use it again.”

And Sam’s lips would want to smile, even if he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.

Gabriel would add, “You can thank your friends and family for that. Even the firefighters seemed to know you by name. It could have been much worse, if not for them,” and Sam would feel the love of all those people surrounding him. Supporting him.

Then finally: “And of course, you still have me.” The best part.

But that wasn’t what happened.

Instead, Gabriel told him to sell.

Sam’s chest constricted until he could barely breathe as he listened.

“There’s no other option. You need to sell the farm, Sam. Sell to Lucifer and be done with it.”

_‘Fight, Sam.’_

“But this farm is my life.” Even to himself, he didn’t sound convincing.

“You can make a new life. One that doesn’t have a major corporation out to get you.”

_‘Fight back.’_

“You’re telling me to give up a place I’ve poured my time, money, and hard work into? A piece of myself?” That sounded better, and Sam could actually feel himself getting a little angry.

He turned to face Gabriel, who had his arms crossed, brows furrowed in anger of his own.

“To protect you? Yes,” he stated firmly. “Give up. Let Lucifer win.”

_‘Don’t give up.’_

Sam’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“I’m not going to run away.”

“It’s too dangerous—”

“I don’t care.”

Gabriel groaned loudly, throwing his hands up in the air. When they came back down, he pointed at Sam, eyes zeroing in.

“You think you can have it all. But this is how the world works, Sam! There is no happily ever after, and if you go down this path, you’re only going to get hurt. Everybody’s just playing their roles, and Lucifer’s is to take, take, take, and he won’t stop. So, it’s better for everyone if you just step aside and face the truth.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “That’s not truth. That’s surrender, and I won’t do that. I refuse to let Lucifer or anyone else dictate my life for me.”

“If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t have a life! You think he’ll stop at starting fires?”

That took Sam aback. “What? Has the Fire Marshall—”

“No, but come on, Sam. Do you really think it was an accident? Right when you start going after him in court?”

“But Frank hasn’t filed yet. How would he even know?”

“I’m sure he has ways,” Gabriel argued back.

“It doesn’t change my decision,” Sam said, shaking his head.

Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, like he had a headache. When he looked up again, his frustrated expression had faded, revealing the dark circles under his eyes, the stress lines around his mouth, and the fear in his eyes.

“I’m worried for you, Sam,” he admitted softly.

And Sam’s ire deflated, his shoulders sagging. “I know,” he said, voice choking with the pain of saying his next words,” but I don’t need your worry. I need your support.”

When Gabriel closed his eyes, body tensing, Sam knew he had just lost something infinitely more precious than his farm.

“I can’t give you that. Not about this. I won’t watch you get hurt.”

“Then maybe you should leave.”

With a look of startled hurt that disappeared when he turned, Gabriel started back toward the house.

After a few steps, he stopped. Without turning, he added, “He won’t stop here, you know. He’ll go after your brother. Jessica. Colt. Gary. Everyone who’s ever helped you.”

Despite his tightening throat and blurring vision, Sam answered, “Then we’ll be ready.”

“Alright then.”

Gabriel left.

The storm broke.

The litigation against _Graceful Growers_ and Lucifer Morningstar moved along at the speedy pace of a grandfather snail. The results of the Fire Marshall’s inspection did help somewhat, stating that it had started under “suspicious circumstances” and had then spread along the organic weed barrier that Sam used to protect his plants.

At least, once the claims had been officially filed, Lucifer’s lackeys stopped coming around.

In the meantime, the vineyard that supplied Jess with the grapes that she needed for her shop tried breaking their contract. She, with Frank’s help, managed to fight it and force them to honour it, but next year the contract would expire and she would have to find a new main supplier.

Gary’s father was side swiped by a speeding car. It wasn’t a life-threatening injury, but enough that Gary had to take time off from work right as the harvest approached to help his mother take care of him. The driver of the car hadn’t been caught.

The ranch was broken into. Thankfully, Dean and Castiel had been away at their cabin that night, so no one was hurt, but a lot was stolen. Including their parents’ wedding rings, which they had been saving to give to Claire and Jack when they were older.

Sam started going to bed each night wondering what kind of bad news would greet him in the morning. Because they always seemed to be something.

Gabriel’s words were coming true.

Although nothing had been attempted on him directly, Sam was just waiting for that shoe to drop.

The harvest came. Sam was forced to use anyone and everyone who was willing to lend a hand. Practically no one had answered his seasonal ad for pickers, and he grew desperate enough to even ask Dean for help.

Without fuss or blame, Dean put as much of the ranch on hold for a few days as he possibly could, and sent all of his available ranch hands over to help out. All at his own cost, despite Sam’s protests.

He still intended to pay him back in full for the labour.

At least it was a smaller crop, thanks to the fire. _So, bright side_ , Sam thought wryly.

When it was over, and all that was left was to prepare the fields for winter, Sam retreated into his house with a weekend of balancing his accounts and figuring out how he was going to survive until next harvest ahead of him.

At least, that had been his plan until Dean began pounding at his door late Saturday afternoon.

He gave Dean his best disgruntled look as his brother gave his flannel sweatpants and ratty t-shirt a once over.

Annoyed, Sam demanded, “What do you want?”

Scan done, Dean abruptly gripped his shoulders and gave him a hard stare. “Get dressed.”

“What for?”

“The party.”

“Fuck no.”

“Oh, come on, Sam,” Dean whined. “Everyone wants you to come.”

“No.”

“It’ll be good for you.”

“No.”

“Cas invited Gabriel.”

“He did? Did— No.” Sam shook his head roughly. “It’s better if I don’t—”

“Sam! For heaven’s sake. I love you, but you can be as stubborn as a mule and as dense as a brick sometimes.” He gave Sam a shove inside. “Go get dressed and get your ass over to the party. Don’t make me send Jody to fetch you. She has handcuffs and she’s not afraid to use them.”

Ten minutes later, Sam was still debating.

Fifteen minutes, and he was tossing clothes across his room.

Twenty minutes, and he was sitting on his bed wondering what the hell he was doing.

Finally, a half hour after Dean had left, he was showered, dressed, and on his way to the ranch.

When he arrived at the decked-out barn, Sam immediately scanned the crowd for Gabriel, but there was no sign of him.

So, he mingled.

And gradually, he began remembering that he actually did enjoy the end-of-season parties.

He didn’t dance and people that he knew frequently mentioned that he seemed more subdued this year, but at least he was there. He was trying.

That had to count for something.

Then, as he was chatting with Dean and Kevin, one of Dean’s staff, he noticed his brother’s eyes widen at something behind him.

Sam turned.

Just as it did nearly two decades before, it started with a look.

A smoldering, come-hither looked that beckoned and teased with the promise of an unforgettable night.

But it was even more potent now, delving deeper into his soul, way past the superficial feelings of lust that still rushed to the surface just as strongly as before. Because it wasn’t a stranger that was giving him that look this time, but _Gabriel_. The very same man that he had grown to know and care about over the past summer.

The man who had lifted his spirits with his wit and humour when no one else could. The man who had pined for him for nineteen years, just as he had for him.

The man who he had hoped would comfort him after he had been struck with one of the deepest blows of his life, knowing exactly what he needed to get back on his feet again. But he hadn’t.

This time, instead of sneaking away unseen, they crossed the dance floor to meet in the middle.

Sam ignored the two thumbs up that Dean gave him as he passed.

In the center, they stopped, inches from each other.

“Heya, Sam.”

“Hi, Gabriel.”

“Fancy seeing you around here.”

Despite himself, Sam chuckled, staring down into those familiar eyes, the face that had haunted his dreams every night since this same one a lifetime ago.

To Sam’s surprise, Gabriel’s usual confidence dipped and he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on Sam’s feet.

“Can we talk?”

“We’re talking now.”

“Sam, please.”

The regret in Gabriel’s eyes when he finally lifted them to meet Sam’s, had him giving in and leading them over to an empty table in the corner of the barn.

“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” Gabriel started.

“No, I—”

Gabriel held up a hand. “Please, I—I need to say this first.”

Sam nodded and Gabriel continued.

“I shouldn’t have left. I didn’t want to leave. I was just… so damn scared for you.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You don’t know this about me—I don’t put it on my resume anymore—but once upon a time, I worked for _Graceful Growers_. Back when it was a much smaller company, but still.”

He paused and looked Sam in the eyes, making sure he was understood.

“That’s why I know Lucifer’s methods. What he’s capable of and why you should have been afraid of him.”

Sam didn’t miss the critical detail in that sentence. “Should have been? Past tense?”

And that’s when a smile crept onto Gabriel’s face. “You don’t need to worry about Lucifer anymore.”

Sam blinked in surprise and amazement. “Did Frank—”

“No, no.” Gabriel waved a hand. “It was all me. You can thank me later. With interest.”

Even as his lips quirked, Sam raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were here to apologize. Not gloat.”

“Can I not do both?”

Rolling his eyes, but also chuckling, Sam motioned for Gabriel to go on with his tale.

“Long story short, back during the time-I-do-not-mention, I happened to come into possession of a few measly shares of _Graceful Growers_. Part of the perk package back then.” He shrugged. “They’ve just been sitting there, collecting dividends, but otherwise pretty useless.”

Then that devilish spark came into Gabriel’s eyes. “Until I was faced with needing someway to gain leverage over Lucifer and the idea struck. After doing some wading through the pits of hell, or close enough, I found him.”

“Found who?”

“Fergus MacLeod. Owner and president of _Crowley Corp_. Who also happens to own forty-nine percent of _Graceful Growers_ ’ stock. So, I made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”

Warily, Sam asked, “What offer?”

“My stocks, which would give him controlling stock in _Graceful Growers_ , in exchange for a promise that _Graceful Growers_ and Lucifer would never darken your life, or the lives of those around you ever again.”

Sam’s hands were trembling. _Was he really free? Was it truly all over?_

“You gave them away for free?” he breathed.

Gabriel waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, there may have been a small monetary compensation, which may or may not be sitting in your bank account by tomorrow.”

“Gabriel!”

“What?”

“I can’t accept that.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, it’s not a gift.”

Gabriel laughed while Sam huffed.

“Now I’m confused.”

“It’s my buy in.”

“Buy in?”

“Yes, to a fifty percent partnership in _Sam_ _’s Strawberries_.”

“Fifty percent?”

“Oh, we’re negotiating now? Okay, I could perhaps accept forty-five, but I’ll require an alternate form of compensation for the difference.”

“We are _not_ negotiating,” Sam hissed. “I don’t even know how much money you’ve given me!”

“Shall we table this discussion for tomorrow?”

“Please,” Sam practically begged. “I’m still processing that Lucifer isn’t a problem anymore.”

Gabriel laughed, but then the laughter died down and he sobered.

“I am sorry, Sam. No matter how worried I was, I should have supported you. I should have trusted that we could have figured it out together.”

His heart aching, Sam took Gabriel’s hand in his. “It’s okay. We’ve both made mistakes. For once, let’s forget the past, forget the future, and just live in the present. Right here, right now.”

“Samshine, I couldn’t agree more.” Then, because Gabriel was Gabriel, he waggled his eyebrows. “Are you sure you want to forget _all_ of the past though?”

Sam swallowed, suddenly recalling exactly where they were. “What do you say we get out of here?” he said urgently.

“You read my mind.”

“Good.” And with that, Sam stood, pulling Gabriel up by the hand. But before Gabriel could catch his balance, he leaned down, put his shoulder to Gabriel’s stomach and gripped his thighs.

Gabriel let out a surprised gasp as he was hoisted up and over Sam’s shoulder, arms and legs flailing, ass in the air.

“Sam!”

Another chuckle, followed by an ass slap. The crowd around them roared in amusement and Sam blushed at his own playfulness.

But he was determined not to let anything stop them from doing whatever the hell they wanted tonight.

They deserved this and it had been a hell of a long time coming.

The speed with which Sam located one of the ranch’s empty guest rooms could be considered legendary.

The moment the door shut behind them, Sam captured Gabriel’s mouth with his own, a single thought on his mind: _Finally._ A battle for dominance of the kiss ensued, with tongues duelling and teeth nipping.

Still locked together, they stumble in the direction of the bed, falling onto it when the back of Sam’s knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Gabriel shifted to straddle Sam’s hips and promptly set to work unbuttoning his own shirt. Sam pulled off his t-shirt and then moved his attention to their pants, specifically to removing them.

Finally, blessedly naked, Sam rolled them over and began re-familiarizing himself with the taste of Gabriel’s jaw line. His neck. The junction where neck met shoulder, which he was reminded made Gabriel shudder.

While his mouth sampled the buffet underneath him, his hands roamed down abs, across hips, tracing along quivering thighs, before finally coming to rest on Gabriel’s ass.

Gabriel arched, and Sam groaned as their erections grazed against each other.

“Sam, I’m already…”

“I know. Me too.”

Simultaneously they moved their hips, grinding against each other again and wringing a moan out of both of them.

Wrapping a hand around their cocks, Sam could feel the precum already dripping from the tip of Gabriel’s cock, as well as his own.

He didn’t last very long before he was gasping, “Pants. Pocket.”

Reaching up to delve into the pocket of the pants that had ended up strewn by his head, Gabriel retrieved a travel-sized tube of lube and two condoms.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t as prepared last time, if I recall.”

Sam flushed more than he already was and ducked his head. Mumbling again Gabriel’s shoulder, he said, “I knew there was a chance you’d be here this time.”

Gabriel’s response was to wrap his arms around Sam and pull him close, until Sam was barely holding up his body weight to keep from squashing him. “Now that I have you,” Gabriel said, “I’m not letting you get away this time.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And I’m not getting you go either.”

“Good,” Gabriel stated firmly, then his hands travelled south to Sam’s ass and pulled his hips down as he arched up.

And Sam was lost to the fervour of desire once more.

Time ceased to matter. Seconds were hours and hours were minutes. All Sam knew—all he cared about—was Gabriel.

Before he knew it, his cock was sheathed in a condom and he was lining up with Gabriel’s stretched and lubed entrance.

“Will you surrender to me, Gabriel? Just like you did before?”

Gabriel growled at the delay, but went along with Sam’s dialogue. “You were smaller back then.”

“I won’t hurt you,” Sam said sincerely.

Gabriel’s warm brown eyes locked onto his, cheeks flushed, lips parted. “I know.”

Finding their rhythm again, it was as if the last nineteen years had never happened. The memories that Sam had held onto all those years, faded into pale imitations of the new memories that they were making.

And as they found climax together, Sam knew that it was only going to get better from there.

_One year later_ _…_

They raced along the field as the skies opened up, drenching them in seconds.

At least the humidity was breaking, Sam mused.

After only a minute of running in the downpour, however, Gabriel, who had been keeping pace beside him, slowed to a walk.

“What are you doing?” Sam shouted over the deafening sound of the rain.

Gabriel simply shrugged and held out his arms to either side, a grin stretching across his face.

“We’re already soaked. We might as well enjoy it.”

Lightning flashed, and a second later, Gabriel lifted his face to the sky as thunder boomed all around them.

Sam stood, transfixed by the rivulets of rain streaming down his jaw, his neck, disappearing under the collar of his rain-darkened shirt.

Another bolt of lightning struck, highlighting Gabriel’s features and making it look like he was glowing.

The thunder that followed, even louder than the first, finally snapped him out of his fixation.

“We shouldn’t be out here,” he yelled, pointing up at the dark sky. Literally the worst place to be during a lightning storm was out in the middle of an open field.

After breathing in deeply, as if he were trying to suck in the atmosphere around them, Gabriel dropped his arms and nodded.

With the storm drowning out everything but the loudest shouts, they hoofed it back to the house without a word between them.

After stepping inside, Sam sighed at the state of them. Absolutely soaked through. Their boots and the lower half of their pants caked with mud.

When he saw Gabriel move to step away from the threshold, he quickly snatched him back at the same moment another crack of thunder shook the house, making Gabriel jump.

“Sorry, love. We should strip down here.” He gestured at rug under their feet, already darkened from the rain water dripping from them.

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, talking sexy to me.”

Sam laughed and swatted at Gabriel’s straying hands. Still, Sam’s intended perfunctory strip may have ended up spreading more mud than it should have. Like on the walls. And the ceiling.

Gathering up their clothes a fair while later, Gabriel took them for a rinsing before throwing everything into the washing machine.

Sam was about to return to the living room when he remembered something. Something important.

“Wait!” he called as Gabriel was heading to the laundry room.

Confused, he paused.

Sam raced over and dragged his pants out of the pile, reaching into the pocket to pull out the small object, hopefully without letting Gabriel see it.

“What’s that?”

Sam froze, realizing he had just been caught.

“Um…”

In his favourite boxers and a white tank, holding an armful of dirty laundry, Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him. “Sam… I will spank you.”

And Sam would enjoy every minute of it, but he wasn’t about to admit that.

Instead, he cleared his throat, shifted the object until it was pinched between his fingers and dropped into a kneel.

“Gabe. Gabriel. Will you do me the honour of marrying me and becoming my husband?”

And that was how, for the first time in Sam’s memory, Gabriel was shocked into speechlessness.

He said ‘yes,’ of course. After he had dropped the laundry and kissed Sam senseless.

THE END


End file.
